


If I Never Knew You

by chooken



Category: Westlife
Genre: Adultery, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Fluff, Frottage, M/M, POV Alternating, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 13:08:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 44,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2813093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chooken/pseuds/chooken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nicky is happily married. Mark is happily single. This is not a path either of them should be on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Electricity

To put it simply, Mark felt like shit. It was that horrible, icky feeling you get when you wake up at eight o’clock in the morning and realise your bus has left at 7:55. When there’s no coffee left in the cupboard, and tons of milk, when all you want is black. When somebody else ate the last of the coco-pops and you have to have bran flakes. When you got so drunk the night before you’re not quite sure what happened, except being left with a few half-remembered glimpses of some equally pissed transvestite named Harriet asking if you want a lap dance and the knowledge that you probably said yes. When you have to pick past large patches of vomit adorning the floor, and just know that at least some of them are yours, and the ones you stepped in definitely are not, because you’re pretty sure you haven’t eaten carrots in at least the last week.

To put it less simply.

There was really only one thing left to do here, and that was groan. Even he winced at the quiet pain in his own voice, the sudden flinching only making his head throb more. He pressed his palm to his face, hoping to cover it as he walked past the hall mirror, and groaned again, avoiding the wince this time. There was an answering groan from somewhere to his left, but he ignored Kian’s pain, too wrapped up in his own.

“Oohhhhh...”

“OOOHHHHH...” Mark replied, almost shutting the door, but not quite, the click of the latch too much for his pounding head. He collapsed on the mattress, stupidly forgetting that wincing was painful, and buried his face in a pillow that was at the foot of the bed for a reason he wasn’t quite sure of. He heard Shane groan and slowly looked under the bed, registering a Shane-shaped lump that shifted slightly.

“OOOOOHHHHH...”

“ _OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH!!!!”_ Mark countered, flopping back to bed. Shane sighed, defeated, and then died again, collapsing into an even lumpier lump than before. One last half-hearted groan, and Mark shut his eyes against the pillow, which he swore was much scratchier than it had been yesterday.

Something moved in the hall, and Mark sighed as Kian tottered in, lifting his head from the foot of the bed to watch the blonde lean – collapse - against the doorframe.

“Where’s the coffee?” Kian asked. Well, mumbled, but Mark didn’t have the brain power to go into descriptive verbs. He wasn’t quite sure he had the brain power to answer back, really. Instead he gave Kian a look that he hoped said it all. Kian groaned.

“Oooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”

“Ohh.” Mark feebly attempted as Kian sank to the floor, his back against the doorframe until he lost his balance and his top half fell into the room, his legs kicking pathetically against the carpet in the hall. Some guy Mark had seen at Uni, but didn’t know the name of, tripped over Kian’s legs but admirably regained his balance before he hit the floor.

“Ohhh...” The guy started, but gave up. Mark buried his face in the pillow again. Kian died. Shane stayed dead.

Then there was silence, for just a little while.

 

*

 

Nicky’s day started off better than Mark’s. For one thing, there was less of the hangover. For another, there was less vomit, less pissed mates, and less of the drag queen. As well as that, there was more coffee, more coco pops, and no sloppy chunks of carrot on the floor.

“Good morning darling.” Georgina sighed as she slid gracefully into the chair across from him. He smiled, passing her the coco pops.

“Morning sweetheart. Good sleep?”

“Yes thanks.” She stretched a little and then reached for the brightly cartooned box of sugary goodness he’d placed in front of her, pouring a small amount into her bowl and covering it with milk. “You?”

“Great.” He leant over and kissed her gently on the cheek, making her smile. He smirked proudly and kissed her other cheek, finally capturing her lips. She laughed into the kiss and he replied with one of his own, sitting back down and picking up his spoon.

“What time does the moving van come?”

He scratched his chin, thinking. “Well, the guy said about ten, so...”

“Midday?” She finished, and he laughed.

“Sounds about right.” He shovelled some more cereal into his mouth. They were finally moving into a real house today, after spending quite a few months living in this little apartment. It was a nice apartment, granted, but it wasn’t really the place to be starting a family, like Gina wanted. They wanted. He wanted that too, obviously. But sometimes he just thought...

He shook his head. No, he did want that. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with Georgina, and start a family with her. That guy from the other night had just been... an experiment. He hadn’t cheated. Georgina would never need know. But every time he thought about sex, he thought about muscular arms, and a flat chest. And cock. Jesus, cock. But Georgina. That was love wasn’t it? That was what love was supposed to be. A man, and a woman.

Yes. He loved Georgina.

But.

But. But. But.

Nicky sighed and tipped his coco pops into the bin, not feeling very hungry any more. He looked up just in time to see the moving van pull up in front of their house.

10:03. A miracle.

 

*

 

Mark finally pulled himself out of bed at one o’ clock and sighed, his head aching. He barely avoided treading on a hand that was poking out from under the bed, and wondered if Shane was still alive. He heard a sigh.

He was about to step over Kian by instinct, but then realised that his friend wasn’t there anymore. He heard the toilet flush and nodded to himself, heading into the loungeroom to await Kian’s – or nameless Uni guy’s – arrival.

It was Kian, much to his relief, and he gave a halfhearted wave from his favourite ratty old armchair as the blonde slumped onto the couch, sinking down until he was laid on his side, staring unseeingly at the blank TV.

“Mmmm....” Kian was still in moaning territory, which Mark had happily passed while he was deep in slumber. Kian shut his eyes for a second and opened them again, using the smallest amount of effort possible to look up at Mark. “Coffee...?”

Mark shook his head, feeling a bit sorry for Kian, who had apparently forgotten. Kian moaned again. Mark winced, glad that the movement wasn’t too painful this time, and that he could remember even less of his inebriated, gender-illusionist lapdancer. With purple sparkly heels. He winced again. It wasn’t that he had any problem with drag queens, he didn’t. It was just that he liked his males to be males, and his females to be females. He was never sure what do, either. Did they prefer to be called she or he? It was just too confusing. Especially when he was drunk.

Mark sighed and pulled himself out of the chair, the ancient material giving somewhat under his hands. He stumbled to the door, patting Kian on the shoulder as he did.

Time to buy some coffee.

 

*

 

“Nicky...”

Georgina gestured to him and he nodded, passing down a wooden dining chair which she took cheerfully, disappearing back into the house. He smiled after her, watching her long blonde hair bounce on the shoulders of denim overalls, draped loosely over an old, brightly floral t-shirt. She was so beautiful.

He really did love her.

“Having a sleep, lad?” Nicky shook his head to clear it, focusing on the man who had spoken. One of the movers, he was tall and thickly built. Not fat, or muscular, just big. A short black beard grew in bristling tufts over his beefy chin, smoothed awkwardly about his thin red lips. Nicky smiled amiably at him and turned back into the van, picking up the second chair and passing it out.

They were on the last of it now, just these chairs and a few more boxes to unload. Nicky passed a few of the bulging cardboard boxes out to the moving men before grabbing the last one himself and leaping out with it, carrying it up the pebbled pathway and into the house. Gently setting it down, he sighed. That was it. They were all moved in. He pulled Georgina into a hug as she moved past and she laughed, kissing him gently on the cheek. He tugged her into a kiss as she tried to move away and moaned softly as her tongue slipped into his mouth, caressing his as her arms wrapped around his neck.

“I love you.” She whispered when she finally pulled away and laid her head on her shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her waist tightly, resting his chin by her temple and holding her close.

He loved her so fucking much.

But...

“Ahem.” Nicky was pulled from his thoughts by one of the moving men, the one with the beard, and looked up, startled. “Sorry to interrupt.” The man said. “But there’s the bill to take care of...”

“Oh, of course.” Nicky let go and dug in his jeans for his wallet, but met only lint and a piece of scrunched up train ticket. He pursed his lips, thinking. Maybe it had fallen out in the back of the truck. He explained this to the man and ran out. Looking in, he spotted it on the floor, right in the back corner. He climbed in.

 

*

 

Mark nodded to the girl at the counter, taking the plastic bag from her and putting his wrist through the handle. He’d bought a few apples, a bottle of orange juice, sugar, eggs. And, of course, coffee. An extra, heavy-duty, enormous tin of coffee.

Kian would be happy.

He let the bag that was hanging limply from his wrist swing in time with his steps, ignoring the slight pain that came from the occasional contact with his leg. He knew he looked a mess, he had caught a glimpse of himself in the window on the way out. He could just about feel the bags under his eyes, and his face felt tired and saggy. He sighed.

He, Kian and Shane had been living in Dublin for about three years now, in a little house near the University. The house had been chosen for convenience only, not quality. It wasn’t squalor, far from it; it was just incredibly tiny, with no bath, and barely any kitchen. There was only one bed, which Shane and Kian shared, and Mark generally used the fold-out in the minuscule living room. He’d decided against it that morning for a few reasons. One, the bed had been empty. And two, there had been a suspicious carroty stain on the sheets.

Who ate all these bloody carrots, anyway?

He wished they could move. It really was a hellhole. He wanted to move into one of these new houses. Some guy up ahead was doing just that, it seemed, a large van parked in the driveway with large, bold lettering across one side heralding it as _Mick's Movers_.

Lucky bastard.

 

*

 

“Fuck.” Nicky murmured softly as the door snickered shut behind him. That would be just his luck, wouldn’t it? If he was stuck in here? Well, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe they’d forget he was in here and take him to same place exciting and new, where he could love Georgina unconditionally, and where he hadn’t slept with... that bloke. Jesus, he didn’t even know the guy’s name! Rob? Rock? Rick? Rich? Ri...? Ri... something, anyway. Although maybe it wasn’t.

He picked up his wallet and headed back towards the door. It was almost dark in here, except for the infinitesimal vein of light managing to squeeze in between the heavy metal doors. He stumbled as he reached them and fell heavily into them, his hand hitting the door handle and forcing it open. A foreboding hollow _thunk_ sounded as he felt the door jar against something and he leapt to see what the damage was.

Please god, don’t let it be the car. Please god.

It wasn’t. A boy – young man – was laid unconscious on the ground, blood trickling from a nasty-looking lump on the side of his forehead that was swelling by the second. Nicky leapt to the ground and knelt over the man, immediately struck by his face. Behind the wound his skin was pale, his cheeks flushed and his lips even more so. He had thick, dark hair that was flat and in need of cutting, although the remnants of a style remained. He was what Nicky would have thought Snow White would look like. If she was a man, obviously. All pale skin and dark hair, and rosy lips and cheeks. So beautiful.

“Nicky, are you...?”

Georgina. Yes, she was beautiful too. He loved her; he was reminded as she knelt down beside them in a panic, looking down at the young man.

“What happened...?”

Nicky explained shortly and she winced, getting up and running back inside for some help. He looked back down, Georgina forgotten instantly as he let his gaze fall on the young man. Tentatively, he reached out one hand and brushed his thick hair back from his forehead, away from the nasty wound. It felt so silky in his fingers, and he let his fingers linger for longer than was strictly necessary. The boy moaned softly and rolled to his side.

Nicky waited, watching, as two of the men came out at Georgina’s instruction, gently lifting the boy into the house, away from him. He followed, unable to tear his eyes away.

 

*

 

Pain. That was the first thing Mark registered. Pain, and aching, and soreness. It thrummed outwards from his head, along every single nerve he possessed, throughout his arms and legs and back. Everywhere. Pain. Fucking horrible pain.

He heard a soft moan and realised it was himself. There were voices, soft and whispered, anxious. And more pain. He felt himself be moved, and suddenly he was somewhere much softer, but no less uncomfortable. He clenched one fist, testing, and, sure enough, the pain was coming in loud and clear. He moaned again and forced his eyes open, wanting to know what the cause of all this pain was.

And was met with...

Eyes. Blue. They sparkled with worry, and... something else. What something else? He didn’t know. Something so indefinable he wasn’t sure it had a name. But beautiful. Definitely beautiful. They stared back at him, telling him something he didn’t think he’d ever be able to comprehend.

 

*

 

Eyes. Jesus. Nicky could only stare as they were unveiled from behind thick, dark eyelashes that flickered gently, so gently, that Nicky could barely see them move. Wouldn’t have seen them move had he not been watching so closely. But he was, and he saw. Eyes. A deep, confused blue. Something both light and dark swimming and interweaving through the depths. He had thought Snow White, but this was beyond anything he could ever put a label on. This was something extraordinary and mysterious. Something beautiful.

He spoke.

“Where...?”

A voice as liquid and deep as the boy’s eyes. Something so powerful there. Nicky had to clear his throat before he could speak around the haze that seemed to radiate from the boy’s entire being.

 

*

 

“Um... you um...” The voice that belonged to the eyes was stuttering, unsure, curious. Mark would have smiled had he not hurt so much. There was something reassuring there, in the husky, sandpaper rasp. He swallowed, waiting for the man to answer.

“Um... you had a bit of an accident. Must have walked past when I opened the door of the truck.” He paused, looking even more unsure than before. “Sorry.”

“Oh.” Mark reached up and hesitantly felt his forehead. Yep. Definitely felt like he’d been hit by a truck door. When he pulled back, there was a little smudge of blood there, but not much. The lump was obvious under his fingers. It was throbbing badly, and suddenly Mark felt dizzy and sick.

“Is... is it okay?”

The guy, a blonde, Mark could tell now that he’d finally started to focus past the eyes and voice. He was really cute, Mark noted. Stylish, and really... boyband. Too perfect, to the point of being surreal. Boyband. Yes. That was it.

But really cute.

 

*

 

“Is... is it okay?” Nicky saw the young man study him for a second, and his breath caught in his throat. He felt like he was under the microscope. But strangely not uncomfortable. Yes, he felt a slight bit... disconcerted by the momentary scrutiny, but at the same time he felt like heaven. This boy, this amazing, beautiful boy, was looking at him. Really looking, if only for a moment. He couldn’t remember the last time he and Georgina had... well... _looked_. Even for a split second.

Georgina. Yes. He loved her.

“I...” Nicky cleared his throat. “I... yes. Yeah, it... it’s okay, I think. We’re just... just gonna get some ice on it.”

“Oh... don’t worry about...”

“No, it’s for the best.” Nicky practically blurted the words out, feeling panicked. And wasn’t that sad? This boy had been in his life for about five minutes, and already he didn’t want him to leave. Was feeling panicked over it. Pathetic, Nicky. He told himself.

Pathetic.

“Hey, here’s some ice...”

Georgina behind him, an ice pack in hand. The boy looked up at her and smiled shyly, looking just a little bit embarrassed. Or maybe he didn’t look embarrassed. What did Nicky know about the way he looked when he was embarrassed?

The boy took it and pressed it to his forehead, wincing as it touched the large bruise. Nicky just wanted to hug him.

“That’s nasty.” His wife said sympathetically, handing the boy a glass of water. He sipped it, his full, red lips clinging to the lip of the glass as he pulled away. “What’s your name, love?”

 

*

 

Ah, so there was a girl on the scene. Mark didn’t think he should be as disappointed about that as he was. Of course, they hadn’t exactly said they were together, but it was one of those things you could just _tell_. Like body language or something. Jesus, that ice hurt. But it was starting to numb a little as he sipped the water she offered. She asked his name and he attempted a smile.

“Mark.”

 

*

 

Mark. Mark. Mark. Mark. Mark.

Nicky repeated the name to himself, those rich chocolaty tones swirling around in his head and making him forget who he was for a second. But who cared who _he_ was? Only one name mattered, and that was Mark’s.

Mark.

Mark... Mark... Mark...

Georgina. Georgina and Nicky.

And Mark. Nicky and Mark.

“Georgina.”

He watched as she introduced herself, shaking his hand in welcome. Mark smiled, and Nicky’s heart skipped a beat.

“I’m uh... I’m Nicky.” He offered, reaching out to shake his hand as well and feeling lightning run through his skin and burst in his brain at just the simplest light touch.

 

*

 

Nicky.

 

*

 

Mark.

 

*

 

God, Nicky’s touch felt so good. Like electricity, joining them together. Mark felt a stupid smile steal across his lips and self-consciously dropped Nicky’s hand, aware that he’d been holding it for far too long. He blushed, and took another sip of water to hide it, not missing the moment when Georgina squeezed Nicky’s thigh. His mid to upper thigh.

Fuck.

Another sip of water.

“Well, I... thanks for um... the ice and...” Mark felt his blush worsen as he looked at the happy couple. Happy, cute, gorgeous couple. With the... so gorgeous... man. God. So...

He had to get out. Had to. Because... because...

“So I... I better be off or whatever. I don’t want to like... you look busy so...” He shut up when he saw Georgina nod.

“Okay.” She smiled prettily. “Are you sure you don’t want a cup of tea or anything?”

“Oh... I’m okay. Gotta get home. My housemate, he...” Mark paused, remembering. The coffee! Where was... “Uh... I had a bag with me. Did you happen to...?”

“Oh, yes!” Georgina nodded. “Yeah, I picked it up. Just a second.” She disappeared for a moment, leaving Mark in the living room.

With Nicky.

“So.” Nicky started, looking flustered. “I’m, um, sorry about hitting you with the... well, you know. So. Sorry. I really, really... am. Sorry.”

“That’s okay.” Mark said hurriedly. “You didn’t do it on purpose. Should have been watching where I was going.” He winced. His voice was shaking. It always did when he was nervous.

“No, it was my fault.” Nicky continued, and Mark had to smile as the man started to blush, just a bit. “I shouldn’t have just slammed it open like that. I didn’t mean... I’m going to shut up now.” He bit into a pouting lower lip as his attempt at an explanation came to an end. Mark couldn’t help laughing.

 

*

 

Nicky felt himself blush even more as the boy laughed softly. Could he have sounded any more like an idiot? Jesus. He’d have no chance now.

Not that he wanted a chance. No. He had Georgina. She was all he needed.

He jumped as the cold ice pack was placed in his palm, and looked up to see Mark start to cautiously stand up, as if afraid that a door was suddenly going to come out of nowhere and flatten him.

“Thanks a lot, anyway.” Mark smiled with those exquisitely full lips, and Nicky had the sudden uncontrollable urge to leap on him and kiss him senseless. The plan was thwarted when Georgina reappeared, carrying a plastic bag that was somewhat worse for wear. A quick check verified that the contents – even the eggs – were perfectly unharmed. Mark thanked her and took the bag, heading doorwards.

“Okay, well thanks anyway.” Mark said, pouting those beautiful lips and smiling. Nicky felt a tingle run from the top of his head to the tip of his toes, although quite a bit of the rush did decide to accumulate about... oh, midway down his body. Nicky felt himself blush. God.

“That’s okay, sweetheart.” Georgina smiled. “Watch out on your way home, okay?”

Mark laughed. “Yeah. Hopefully no-one else is moving house today.”

“I don’t think it’s so much people moving as my husband being a clumsy git.” She laughed, and Nicky did a double take. Husband... husband... Oh! Him! Right. Duh. Stupid, Nicky.

“See ya Mark.” Nicky forced himself to smile.

“Bye.”

And then the door was shut behind him.

 

*

 

Husband. Of course. Mark swore to himself as the door shut behind him. Husband. Nicky and Georgina were married, so that meant Nicky was straight, and attached, and... not Mark’s. Well, of course he wasn’t Mark’s! He’d just met the guy! God, it wasn’t like they were getting married or anything.

Mark sighed, moving off the step and down the path.


	2. Who's Your Mates?

“We going out tonight?” Mark tore his eyes away from the television to focus on Shane, who had just dropped down beside him. Kian had called armchair rights, so Mark was sitting on the couch, much to his dismay.

Kian looked up from his paper. “I suppose. Why? Where were you thinking of going?”

“Dunno. The Cellar?”

The Cellar was not one of Dublin’s leading gay clubs. It was a little bit more private, more of a pub than a club. It did have a dance floor, and a DJ, but not that many people knew about it. Kian had heard about it from a friend of a friend of a friend, and it had become one of their haunts because, despite it being less well known, there was always the promise of a good atmosphere, and plenty of guys to fuck.

“Yeah, why not?”

“Mark?”

“I’m uh... I’m not really in the mood.” Not in the mood. No. Well, not for anything other than a certain beautiful blonde. Mark hadn’t been able to get Nicky out of his mind, even though almost two weeks had passed since he’d been flattened by the door (something which had been a cause for great hilarity amongst his friends). He was beginning to feel like a stalker, had actually walked past Nicky’s – and Georgina’s – street a few times, but hadn’t had the guts to go in. He took the long way to and from the market now.

“Why? Are you sick?” Shane reached out and pressed his palm to Mark’s forehead, his face a picture of mock-concern. Mark batted it away, scowling.

“No. Just don’t feel like it.”

Kian was looking at him funny now, and Mark shrugged.

“Look, you’ll probably just piss off with other blokes anyway. You won’t even notice me missing.”

They were both staring at him together, eyebrows raised, and Mark felt a sick urge to laugh. He shifted in his chair, feeling their gazes bore into him.

Mark heaved a defeated sigh.

Kian whooped, jumping up. “Right! I’m going to get ready!”

“It’s only five o’clock.” Shane said, pointing at his watch for emphasis. But Kian was long gone. Mark could just about see images of hair gel flashing through the blonde’s mind. Shane rolled his eyes. “Oh well, at least I have you to keep me company, eh?”

“Yeah.” Mark nodded, his eyes already drawn to the chair Kian had vacated. Shane’s gaze flickered in the same direction and Mark glared.

This was a standoff. And he intended to win.

He stared at Shane, an eyebrow raised, and Shane looked back, one hand already creeping inches closer to the chair. Mark watched it move and looked up again, Shane’s hazel eyes glinting with purpose. Hazel. Not like Nicky’s, that amazing sparkling blue. So cheerful, and flirty, and...

That was it. Shane saw his concentration waver, and Mark lost control, yelling indignantly as Shane leapt for the chair, landing half on it and then scrambling into it properly, Mark launching himself at the older boy’s back. But it was too late. Shane’s arse was firmly in the chair and, as the rules of chair ownership stated, that was game, set, and match.

“Fuck!” Mark groaned, dropping his head into his hands, still sat astride Shane’s lap. Shane pushed him hard and he fell to the ground, crawling, defeated, back onto the couch.

“I win!” Shane asserted unnecessarily, sticking his tongue out and reaching for the paper Kian had abandoned, opening it straight to the cartoons. Mark gave him the finger, but Shane apparently didn’t notice, too absorbed in Dilbert.

“Only because you were closer.”

Shane smiled sweetly. “Yes, that’s probably true. Tough luck, Marky.”

Mark scowled, reaching for the remote.

Time for a spot of channel surfing.

 

*

 

“Nix!”

Nicky had to hold the phone away from his ear for a second to ensure his eardrum was still intact. He didn’t seem to have been deafened, and there was no blood, so he put the phone back to his face, grimacing.

“Hey Bry. How’s you?”

“Not bad, mate. You?”

“Okay.”

Nicky could almost hear Bryan’s smile. “Just okay? Well, we’ll have to change that, won’t we? Lads’ night out?”

Nicky sighed. He remembered what happened last time they’d had one of those. Bryan didn’t know, of course. Couldn’t know. Nobody could, or then everyone might find out that he was... what? Gay? He wasn’t that, so what was there to worry about? But people might think...

And what if Gina foun... thought so?

“I dunno, Bry.”

But Bryan was adamant. “Come on mate! Look, just for a drink. It’ll be great!”

Just for a drink? Well, that would be okay, he supposed. And it wasn’t like he’d have any chance to... well. Well, not that he wanted to! But there would be no opportunity to accidentally... yeah.

Fuck.

“Fine.”

Bryan’s whoop deafened him further and, after firing a quick stream of details, Bryan said goodbye and hung up.

Leaving Nicky to his own thoughts. Of cock. And Mark.

Fuck.

 

*

 

Mark’s soft laugh was cut off as hot lips landed over his, strong hands pushing him against the nearest wall. He groaned, reaching up to card his fingers through short, blonde hair, clenching as he sensed hips moving closer to his own. He thrust forward, moaning as he felt a hard cock grind against his and fingers dig roughly into his arse.

The kiss ended as the guy pulled back to look at him for a moment, blue eyes sparkling impishly. Blue... but not the right blue. Too dark. Too clear. Too big.

Not Nicky.

But then, nobody was Nicky, he decided. Nobody. And he couldn’t have Nicky. So...

He laughed.

“Sexy...” The guy murmured just above the pounding beat of the music, lips against his ear, thigh between Mark’s legs as Mark bucked like a virgin. Well, not like a virgin. He’d been in this situation far too many times to ever present a convincing façade of innocence. But he could try at least.

“Mmm... fuck me...” He whispered back, his hand snaking around to the front of the guy’s leather trousers. The guy. What was his name again? Uh... Ni... Nicholas?

No, idiot. Not Nicholas. God, he had Nicky on the brain.

Um... Jason. Yeah, that was it. Jason. But then, who cared what his name was? Mark pushed his hand into Jason’s trousers, cupping his cock and running his thumb along the length. Yeah, who cared about the guy’s name? He had a really nice cock.

Bet Nicky had a nice cock.

He was pushed harder against the wall, crushed so his hand was between his and Jason’s body, still stroking firmly. But then the push lessened and Mark opened his eyes to see Jason tugging his hand out, taking it and leading him towards the toilets.

They crashed into a stall, not caring who could hear them. It wasn’t as if it was a secret what people did in here. Mark felt his trousers being yanked down and he was pushed against the cubicle wall, a lubricated finger pushing into him. He growled, pushing back, a second and then third finger twisting roughly into him. He heard a zip rip open, and a condom packet tear, and then Jason was behind him, already pushing inside. Mark moaned, as always loving the feeling of being filled, a hard length pulsing inside him.

Jason was panting against his neck as he thrust, and Mark’s eyes fluttered shut with pleasure. “Ohhh...” He heard himself groan as his prostate was grazed, white hot ecstasy flashing before his eyes, Jason’s hands gripping his hips tight.

“I’m...” Jason gasped, and Mark felt a rush of heat burst into him, Jason’s hand closing around his cock at the same time. Mark gasped as a stray thrust nudged his prostate, and felt his balls tighten as he came hard over the already sticky, crusty wall. He groaned, resisting the urge to rest his forehead against the wall, and felt Jason pull out. He turned to watch Jason dump the condom in the toilet, pull his trousers back into place and wink as he stepped out of the stall.

Mark smiled, turning to use the toilet. He exited, already spotting Jason chatting up some guy at the bar, and dropped down into a seat beside Kian.

“Hey.” Kian smiled. “Good time?”

Mark gestured ‘okay’ and Kian shrugged, taking a sip of his drink, a pink and orange cocktail thingy that some guy had bought for him.

“Where’s that guy?”

Kian snorted. “His boyfriend showed up. Got a free drink out of it though.” He smiled. “Weighing up that one over there.”

Mark looked over, trying to see who Kian was looking at. “Where?”

“Uh... oh, he’s behind that guy. The blonde... White button shirt. Tight jeans.”

Mark craned his neck, wanting to see. He gasped as he realised.

Nicky.

 

*

 

Nicky smiled as Bryan slung his arm around his shoulders. Much to his surprise, it had been a good night. He hadn’t seen Bryan in a little while because Bryan and Kerry had been on holidays with the kids. The beach; and Nicky thought he had probably seen every inch of it now, if the stack of photos Bryan had taken had been any indication. But as much as he pretended, he really didn’t mind seeing fifty photos of Molly or Lilly sitting on their dad’s shoulders, or building an amateur sandcastle.

They were heading along a back street now, away from their third pub. They’d met up with a couple of their mates at each, but had moved on, Bryan now deciding they should go to a club.

“Thought we were only going for a drink?” Nicky teased, pulling away and jogging backwards down the street, his tongue poking out. Bryan laughed tipsily.

“I didn’t say that!”

“Yes you did!” Nicky jibed.

“No I... yes I did!” Bryan amended, giggling. Nicky laughed too, wrapping his arm around Bryan’s waist as the younger man’s arm came around his shoulders again. “You know what, Nixy? We look like a couple of poofs! Coupla fags or sumfing!”

“Yeah.” But something inside Nicky twisted. Was that what Bryan thought of gay people? He’d never noticed so before, had always thought Bryan was open-minded, accepting and all that. But maybe... Well, he wouldn’t tell Bryan.

Tell him what?

Nothing. He always got so dramatic when he was drunk.

“Hey!” Bryan jumped excitedly, dislodging Nicky. “Hey you know what we should do now?” Nicky looked at him incredulously, wondering what mental plan Bryan had come up with now. If this was like the time they’d covered themselves in ice-cream and streaked along the beach...

“We should go to a gay club!”

Nicky stopped short. “What?”

“We should!” Bryan laughed. “Come on! I’ve never been to one before, and I wanna see!”

Nicky shook his head. He’d been to one before. He’d already seen. “Bry... it’ll be the same as other clubs. Just with lots of guys.” He paused, trying to think of a way to discourage his friend. “What if one hits on you or something?”

“We’ll pretend we’re together!” Nicky rolled his eyes. “Come on! Have an experience!”

“Oh, I’m sure they’d love to be thought of as that!”

“Look, I ain’t judging! You know, to each their own. But I just wanna go! Please?”

Nicky sighed. Maybe Bryan didn’t think that way, but he still didn’t want to go. What if... well.

“Please?” Bryan stuck out his lower lip and let it tremble, turning on the puppy dog eyes. “Pweeeeeeese...?”

Nicky bit his lip.

Ten minutes later, they were inside a gay club. Not the same one Nicky had been in the other week, but a gay club all the same. The Cellar, it was called, and Bryan had heard about it from a friend of a friend. It was fairly small, so Nicky wasn’t so worried about being spotted by someone he knew, but at the same time there were less people to hide him if he did see someone.

Bryan leant over the bar to order them some drinks, and Nicky took in his surroundings. It was small, as he had already noted. More a pub with a dancefloor than a club. There were guys everywhere, too. Guys dancing. Guys making out. Guys sneaking into the toilets. He sighed. Hadn’t he seen all this somewhere before?

“Hey...” Some blonde pushed up against him and Nicky shook his head.

“No thanks. I’m with someone.” He said frantically, gesturing towards Bryan

The guy looked disappointed for a moment, but then shrugged, crossing the room to try his luck with some other guy. Nicky watched as he nodded at a tall brunette that Nicky could only see the back of. The guy was led out onto the floor, and Nicky gasped as he caught a glimpse of his face.

Mark.

Mark was here! Mark was...

Gay?

Yes! Mark was gay! Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah! Oh... fuck. Fuck. No, not fuck, because Nicky didn’t care. Because Nicky wasn’t gay. Nope. He had Georgina. He couldn’t be gay.

Nope.

He watched as they danced, and pulled Bryan over to a secluded corner so they wouldn’t be spotted. Because then Mark might think he was gay, and he wasn’t. No. Not gay.

He watched Mark dance, grinding and writhing against the other guy’s body, twisting his fingers into his hair, kissing him erotically, their hips pistoning and jerking together. And Nicky could see two definite erections. He could feel a third.

Mark crooked a finger at the guy, his beautiful blue eyes sparkling in invitation, and laughed as he was pushed towards the wall, the corners of his eyes crinkling up. They kissed hard, tongues dropping in and out of each others mouths, and Nicky would have moaned had he not suddenly remembered Bryan was sitting opposite him, a nonsensical smirk playing over his lips.

“Earth to Nicky!” Bryan waved his hand in Nicky’s face. “What you looking at? You turning, mate?”

“No I...” Nicky watched out of the corner of his eye as Mark said something to the guy, his hand working between them. The guy detached his lips from Mark’s neck, and Nicky felt red hot jealousy build behind his eyes as Mark was led into the toilets.

“No.” Nicky shook his head, turning back to Bryan. “No, sorry. Just thinking about...”

Mark.

“Gina.”

“Oh yeah?” Bryan grinned. “How’s the family going?”

“No luck.” Nicky shrugged. Something to do with hormones, or something. We’ve been to the doctor, but I... I dunno.” He scratched his hair, his eyes flicking momentarily over to see if Mark had returned. No. “Anyway, they’ve given us this... ovulation... thingy. I don’t understand it. But hopefully...” He shrugged again. “So, anyway, how about Kerry? How’s she?”

Bryan launched into a cheerful tirade about the housework he was being forced to do, giving Nicky ample opportunity to keep his eye on the toilets. A few guys came in and out, and then someone he recognised. That guy that had hit on him, that had hit on Mark. He had crossed the floor and was chatting to a slim redhead. But where was Mark?

He appeared a few seconds later, looking a little bit flushed, but otherwise content, and Nicky felt a flash of lust run through him. He looked extremely well-fucked. Mark dropped into a seat next to a shorter blonde guy, who smiled, and they began talking, gesturing every now and then. Nicky saw the blonde wave in his direction, and Mark turned to look. Nicky quickly ducked down behind Bryan, who frowned in confusion.

“What?”

“Oh... nothing.” Nicky explained, standing up but making sure Bryan was between him and Mark. “Just thought I dropped something.” He shook his head, shrugging. “I... uh... didn’t. So.”

“Right.” Bryan still looked confused, but didn’t press the matter, which Nicky was grateful for. “I’m going to the toilet. Although god knows what I might see.”

He laughed, and stepped away, leaving no time for Nicky to duck into a better hiding place. Nicky looked up, to see if Mark was still looking in his direction.

He was, a degree of recognition in his eyes.

Those beautiful, blue eyes.

 

*

 

“So, I’m gonna go give it a shot.” Kian’s voice broke Mark out of his stupor, and he jumped, turning to look at his friend, who frowned. “Is something wrong? You’re all... dazed.”

“I uh... no I...” Mark attempted, but then gave up. “I... I know him.”

“Really? He doesn’t have a boyfriend, does he?” Kian joked, gesturing with his almost empty drink. Mark shook his head.

“No. He’s got a... a wife.”

“What?” Kian looked incredulous. “What’s he doing here, then?”

“He... I dunno. He’s... he was the one who hit me with the door the other week. I don’t...” He looked over at Nicky again, who looked like he’d noticed him, and was trying to hide behind a potted plant.

“So go find out!” Kian said, pushing Mark out of his seat. Mark pushed back.

“No way! He probably won’t even remember me!” Well, that wasn’t true, it looked like Nicky had remembered him. Which was exactly why Mark didn’t want to go over. Nicky didn’t look like he wanted to be remembered.

“Sure he will! Come on, Marky! I want gossip!”

Mark looked over again. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to find out, he thought as he looked at the nervously shifting blonde. Surely. He stood up, more to escape Kian than anything, and hesitantly picked his way across the floor, towards Nicky.

“Um... hi.”

Nicky looked like he wished the world would swallow him up. Mark felt the same. But then Nicky attempted a smile, and Mark felt his heart melt. His whole body, in fact, turned to jelly by one nervous little smirk.

“Hi.” Nicky shuffled his feet. “Mark, right? I didn’t know you were... um...”

“Gay?” Mark nodded. It wasn’t like he had any reason to be embarrassed about it. He was in a gay club, for Christ’s sake! “I didn’t think you were...”

“Oh, I’m not!” Nicky blushed bright red, protesting just a little bit hysterically. “No I... I’m in here with a mate. He wanted to um... see.”

“What? See all us gays?” Nicky’s lack of confidence was boosting Mark’s, and he surprised himself by making a joke. Nicky turned redder.

“I... I didn’t think of it like... Sorry.”

“Hey, I was just kidding.” Nicky obviously didn’t get the joke. Mark’s legs just about gave out when Nicky smiled with relief. “It’s not like we don’t go to, y’know, straight clubs. Well, not that they’re only exclusively straight, but... you know what I mean.” Nicky nodded. “So... where’s your mate?”

“Toilets.”

Mark smirked. Did either of them realise what the toilets were actually used for? Nicky blushed, even redder if that was at all possible. Yes, they probably did.

“He uh... he’s just. Peeing.”

“I believe you.” Mark leant back against the wall, next to Nicky. “My mate was checking you out.”

Nicky giggled nervously. “I had someone come over before. The one you... um...” Mark’s eyes widened. Nicky had noticed him that early on? God, that had been half an hour ago! What had that guy’s name been?

“Jason?”

“Um... I dunno his name. Is... is he your boyfriend?”

Mark laughed, struck by the total absurdity of the question. “No.” He snorted. “Hell, no. No. Just fun.” Nicky looked strangely relieved by that, and Mark filed that information away for further analysis. Or maybe Nicky wasn’t relieved. Maybe Mark just wanted him to be. He shrugged.

“How’s your head?” Nicky blurted, making Mark giggle inwardly.

“It’s alright.” He pressed his fingers to his forehead in emphasis. “All cleared up. Say thanks to Georgina. That ice helped.” Yes, Georgina. Nicky’s wife. Nicky had a wife, meaning Mark had no chance. But the flinch in the corner of Nicky’s eye alerted his interest.

Or maybe he was just seeing what he wanted to see.

 

*

 

“Do you want to come sit down?” Mark smiled. “I’m here with some friends...”

Sit with Mark? Nicky looked over to where Mark had been. There was a blonde boy sat there, sipping at a drink, Mark waved and the boy waved back, winking. It wasn’t too far away. Bryan would spot him, surely. And if there were other people there, it wasn’t like he could... well, not that he would but... Well, the temptation wouldn’t be so strong, obviously.

“Yeah, okay.”

“Okay.” Mark nodded, and looked like he was going to take his hand for a second, but then didn’t. Nicky felt disappointed, but reminded himself that that wasn’t what he really wanted, and smiled. No, he didn’t want Mark.

“This is Kian.” Mark gestured to the blonde, who smiled flirtatiously, and reached out a hand. “Kian, this is Nicky.”

“Hi.” Kian winked, and Nicky felt himself blush. Mark slapped Kian’s shoulder. “What?”

“He’s straight. Leave him alone.”

Kian looked disappointed, but shrugged, grinning. “Ah well, can’t blame a guy for trying. What are you doing here then?”

“I...” Nicky explained quickly, feeling almost as mortified as he had when he had told Mark. God, why had he agreed to this in the first place?

Kian shrugged, not seeming offended or anything. Maybe it wasn’t so bad.

“You’re not the only one. Can I say good shot, though?” He poked Mark in the forehead, and Mark laughed, smacking Kian over the back of the head.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

Mark shrugged. “Told you. No harm done.”

“Nicko.” Nicky nearly jumped out of his skin as he felt a hand come down hard on his shoulder. He turned to glare at Bryan, who grinned. “Hey. Who’s your mates?”

Nicky quickly introduced them all, and Bryan sat down, starting to talk animatedly. Nicky watched Mark out of the corner of his eye, mesmerised. The way his mouth moved, his eyes crinkled when he laughed. His full lips pursing sexily, tongue sweeping over them. The press of his thigh against Nicky’s, that heat radiating from his body.

God.

Not that he thought it was sexy himself. Just, y’know, in general.

“Shano!” Kian hollered to someone over Nicky’s shoulder, and all eyes turned to watch a darker boy swagger towards them, from the direction of the toilets. Mark slapped him on the back as he sat down, and Shane winked.

“How’s ye?”

“Good.” Mark nodded. “Have fun?”

“Don’t I always?” Shane grinned. “Who’s your mates?”

“Uh, sorry. This is Nicky...”

“Nicky.” Nicky shook his hand. It was cool and firm, and Nicky smiled, liking him instantly.

“And Bryan.”

“How are ya, Bryan?” Shane winked, and Kian slapped him.

“Straight. Married. Kids. Stop it.”

Shane sighed. “Ah well. How come you’re here, then?”

It was a fair while later that they finally left the club, all five men having happily drunk their own weight in alcohol. Bryan had declared the three Sligo boys his three new best mates, and informed Shane that he would’ve shagged him, ‘if it wasn’t for the wife’. Shane had been happy with this information and had promptly tripped over, falling hard into Nicky with laughter. Nicky had grinned, and shoved him away, but his side did hurt a little bit from where he had been sandwiched between Shane and a particularly unforgiving brick wall. He had denied Kian the chance to ‘rub it all better’, but only in deference to Mark, who had looked at him with something like jealousy in his eyes when he had heard Kian’s offer. Well, at least he thought it was jealousy. It could have just been a general drunken glaze.

Somehow he found himself with Mark’s arm around him, even though he wasn’t quite sure how it had happened, or even if Mark had been the one to initiate it. He didn’t intend on moving though, with this gorgeous boy pressed flush against his side, the heat from his body burning through Nicky’s clothes. It took him a while to realise they’d stopped, and were sitting down. He didn’t move, though, too wrapped up in the feel of Mark.

“Wha...?”

“We’re gettin’ a tac... tacshi!” Bryan slurred, falling into Kian, who laughed.

“Yup! A tacshti!” Kian added, which Nicky thought was a bit redundant. He didn’t have the muscle control to debate this, though, so collapsed into Mark further, wondering why the floor was rippling.

“Heh... Tacshti.” Mark giggled, his chin dropping onto the top of Nicky’s head. Nicky smiled. Who cared if the floor was rippling?


	3. Not Right Now

“Ohhhhh...” Nicky groaned, his head feeling a bit like it had been hit with a van door. He winced, rolling onto his stomach and burying his face in the pillow, hoping the softness might lessen his headache.

It didn’t.

“That’s what you get for staying out all night drinking!” The voice was far too sing-song for his liking, and Nicky momentarily wondered whether a pillow could be considered a lethal weapon. Then he wondered if he had the strength to lift the pillow in the first place.

No. Fuck it.

“Go ‘way Gina.” He mumbled.

The bed rolled far too enthusiastically as she sat down, and a cool hand landed on his back, making him shiver.

“Celia’s coming over in about an hour, love. I told you yesterday not to get like this. I’ll start the shower, okay?”

Ah Cecilia. That’s right, Georgina’s sister was coming over today, and he would probably be expected to be civil, which was easy under normal circumstances. Cecilia was like Georgina. A lovely girl and Nicky got along with her well. But as with Georgina, he was less likely to be congenial toward her when he was still slightly hammered from the night before.

Ha, slightly. Face it Nicky, he told himself, you’re still drunk as hell and have a blinding hangover as evidence.

Water hit the tiles just as Nicky’s arse did and he carefully deposited the bottles of shampoo and conditioner on the edge. He had a feeling it would be much better to have this shower if he were sitting down.

 

*

 

“We have coffee, right?”

Mark nodded, and he hoped Kian could see the blankets move so that he wouldn’t have to lift his head out to reiterate. God knew speaking was way beyond him at the moment. There was no reply, but he heard the noises of coffee-making and wished that he wasn’t sleeping on the fold-out _right next door to the kitchen._ Spoon crashed against mug and he considered getting up and crawling into bed with Shane, but then realised he’d temporarily lost the use of his limbs.

He buried his face further into the couch.

“Want one?”

Mark nodded. Decisively. But not enough that the movement would kick-start his headache again. There were more coffee noises.

“Here.” Mark let Kian pull him up into a sitting position, but ended up toppling in the other direction, so he was leant against Kian’s shoulder. Kian’s arm came around him to hold him steady, and he knew Kian was smiling when the mug of coffee was pressed into his hands.

“Drink this, mate.” Kian whispered. Mark felt as though it had been shouted in his ear. But he didn’t argue.

“Thanks Ki.” He croaked.

“Yeah.” Kian patted his shoulder gently. “You’ll be fine. Better than Shane, anyway.”

Mark didn’t care. He really didn’t.

“Has he died?” Well, he cared to that extent.

“Very close.” Kian replied. “I’m not game to go back in there yet. Mind if I stay here and keep you company?”

Mark nodded slowly. “Just... be quiet.”

“Sure.” Kian’s hair ran gently through Mark’s hair, and Mark didn’t have the heart – or the presence of mind – to tell Kian that it sounded like a lawn mower was running over his head. He buried his face in Kian’s neck, hoping it would make him stop without Mark having to say anything.

Apparently God was partially on his side because Kian’s hand dropped back into his lap, and then went around Mark’s shoulders. Mark mentally glared. What was it with Kian and his inability to get a serious hangover? The bastard got shitfaced after two beers, but did he ever truly feel the after effects? No. It was all: ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with you lot, it’s just a little headache.’ And then there was the knowing smirk. It was at moments like that that Mark hated him.

“Give me that.” Kian took his mug as soon as it was finished, and Mark attempted a grateful smile as he was gently laid down, the blankets tugged back over him. “Go to sleep, mate.” Kian whispered. “You look knackered.” Mark nodded.

 

*

 

“Nicky...!” Cecilia stopped less than two inches short of delivering one of her patented huge hugs. Then she smirked. “Been out?”

“Shut up.” He mumbled. She smirked again.

“Just being interested in my brother-in-law’s social life.” Still with the smirking. God. “How many did you put away last night, eh?”

“Enough that you look appealing.” He even sounded snarky to himself. He’d feel sorry about it. Later.

“Touché.” She giggled, before sweeping past to wrap Georgina in a hug, leaving Nicky feeling as if he’d been safely passed by a whirlwind, except for the very slight brush with death. Cecilia’s, not his.

They sat in the garden, Celia asserting that it would be nice and quiet for Nicky’s head. It wasn’t. Every bird in Ireland had decided to take up residence in the tree they were sitting under, and Nicky thought his darling sister-in-law might have known all along. She really was very good at smirking.

“So, how are you?”

“Not bad.” Cecilia smiled at her sister. “Just... y’know... whatever.”

“Yeah? How’s the book coming?”

“Slowly.” She shrugged. “Getting there. I’ll let you two read it when I’m done. Assuming Nicky’s learnt to read by then. Eh, Nix?”

“You’re fucking hilarious, C.”

“Aren’t I just?” She smiled sweetly. “Did you know, though, there’s absolutely no good-looking men in our generation? It’s a travesty. And if they’re any good, they’re total fuckwits. Absolutely terrible. The only good one’s in my book, and he’s kicked the bucket.”

“I dunno. Haven’t been on the scene for a while. Glad I settled for this one if that’s the case.”

“Hey!” He protested, quite sober enough to realise that aspersions were being cast on him, thankyou very much. Maybe he wasn’t sober enough to walk in a straight line, but this was much more important than that. “It’s not like you two are the pick of the bunch.”

“Say that when you haven’t got sex for a week.” Georgina giggled. Nicky pouted, but for some reason couldn’t muster up the energy to be disappointed about that. Sex with Georgina was good, yes, but for some reason, as soon as he thought the word sex, he thought about...

Mark.

Mark with his blue eyes, and his dark dark hair and the way his leg had felt against Nicky’s, and his arm around Nicky’s shoulders. That heat and that amazing musky smell. That melted chocolate voice that...

“...bloke Nicky hit with the van door was pretty cute.”

“Huh?”

“God Nicky, pay attention!” Georgina scolded. “I was just telling Celia about that guy you hit with the door. Um...”

“Mark.” Nicky said. The word practically scorched his tongue.

“That’s the one. Anyway, he was really cute. Blue eyes, dark hair. Amazing lips. Really cute.”

“Oh... nice. Must be gay or married, with that lot going for him.”

“I dunno, could be...”

“He’s gay.” Nicky interrupted. Georgina looked at him strangely, and Nicky panicked for a second. Had he said too much? Would she think he was now, just because he knew? Like gaydar or something? “Erm... we saw him out yesterday. Had a few drinks with him and some of his mates. He’s gay.”

“Oh, too bad.” Cecilia sighed.

Yeah. Nicky thought. Too bad, Cecilia. You won’t be able to get your paws on him. Not that Nicky wanted to get _his_ paws on Mark, but... well...

He told his brain to shut up and went back to being comatose.

 

*

 

“What did I miss?” Mark murmured as he slid into place next to Kian.

“Um, well let’s see. There was something about history...”

“Nothing then.” Kian nodded.

“I’m thinking of leaving. Getting an early lunch. You wanna come?”

“This is like the second lecture you’ve come to all semester, and you’re gonna leave...” Mark checked his watch. “...twenty-one minutes and...” He glanced down again. “...twelve seconds in?” Kian shrugged. “You’re pathetic."

“It’s better than being bored.” Kian hissed back, beaming sunnily at the girl in front of them that cast an irritated glare over her shoulder. Mark shrugged apologetically at her, and nudged Kian.

“Come on then. But if we miss anything important...”

“I’ll get whatshisface to tell us. He’s been after me for months. I’ll consider it a trade-off.”

“You’ll shag him for his lecture notes?” Kian smirked. “Whore.”

“Hey, this is quality merchandise.” Kian whispered, closing the door behind him and then raising his voice now he was out of the range of the accusing glare of the professor, and under Mark’s equally condemning one. “Look, if you got it, flaunt it.”

“You are so self-obsessed.” Mark shoved Kian lightly. “He actually likes you, you know. Don’t you think it’s a bit cruel to dump him when you only went out with him to get his lecture notes in the first place?” Kian looked completely blank, so Mark left it, wondering how the hell he’d ended up with such a shallow best friend. Okay, he himself did tend to shag complete strangers on a regular basis, but there was no pretence as to what it was. What Kian was doing was just... brutal.

“Just don’t dump him by text this time. At least pretend you care.”

Kian looked blank again.

“Dump him face to face.” Mark reiterated, sighing when Kian shrugged. “Where are we going for lunch, anyway?”

“Cafeteria? They’ve got half price hotdogs today because it’s Friday.” Mark grimaced, but then nodded. They couldn’t afford quality cuisine, so what was the point in complaining? God knew they’d spent enough on drinks last weekend. Mark knew he shouldn’t get so drunk, someone always conned him into buying more than his share of the rounds. And what with there being five of them Saturday night...

But he wasn’t going to think about that. He’d been thinking about Nicky too much lately. The way he laughed and moved and spoke. And god, the way Nicky’s arm had felt wrapped around his waist. An involuntary shudder swept the length of Mark’s body at the thought. Jesus.

Kian gave him an odd look.

“What?” Mark evaded, then abruptly changed topic. “Deutz.”

“You are.” Kian retaliated, before letting the conversation drift into comfortable silence, Mark echoing the friendly grin he was given. As much a Kian was arrogant, rude, self-obsessed and completely shallow, he was a good mate once you’d got past that first outer level of complete crudeness. Mark liked to think that somewhere deep inside Kian was a thoughtful, kind, and caring person.

Well, he hoped so, anyway.

They reached the cafeteria and ordered their food, sitting down at the nearest available table, the place reasonably empty and therefore making their hunt a lot easier. Kian immediately spread himself out, his bag on the chair next to him, his food taking up way more space than Mark thought possible, and his feet coming up to land in the seat across from him, right next to Mark. Mark pushed them off again.

“Don’t put your disgusting feet next to me while I’m eating.” Kian shrugged. “So are you seriously gonna fuck whosit?”

“Yeah.” Kian nodded. “I haven’t had a shag in ages. It’ll be good.”

“You had sex last weekend!”

“But not as much as usual!” Kian retorted. “Your bloody friends showed up and I had to play nice. Too bad that Nicky guy was straight, eh?”

Mark blushed at the mention of the blonde’s name, and hoped that Kian wouldn’t notice. “There’s plenty of other blue-eyed blondes out there, Ki. Shag yourself. It’ll be easier.”

“Nah, do that way too much anyway.” Kian chuckled merrily at Mark’s disgusted grimace. It wasn’t like he wasn’t guilty of the same thing. But Kian. Ew. “Anyway, I’d probably make you jealous.”

“Contrary to your own belief system, Kian, everyone does not want to shag you. Least of all, me.”

Kian snorted. “Not me, idiot. Nicky. You so wanted to shag him through the taxi door.” Mark opened his mouth to protest, but Kian cut him off. “Come on, you are sooooooo obvious. Don’t deny it.”

“It’s not like that.”

Kian snorted again. He did that way too much, in Mark’s opinion. “Uh huh. Sure.”

Mark shrugged. There was no point denying something that was the truth, as much as he didn’t want Kian to know. Why he didn’t want him to know, he wasn’t sure. They’d often checked out straight guys, followed the whole ‘oh I wish...’ train of thought. But that had been oh, I wish I could shag him. That was all it ever was. A few moments of lust, easily refocused on someone much more suitable. This was different. This was like...

Real.

No, Mark berated himself. This was not real. This was a teeny tiny, slightly obsessive crush that would go away of its own accord.

Definitely not real. He didn’t even need to see Nicky again.

Which was much more difficult to say when a small but horribly significant part of his mind suspected that he might have given Nicky his phone number.

 

*

 

“Nicky, love?” Nicky looked up from where had been enthusiastically engaged in a football game. Well, not _a_ football game. _The_ football game. Make or break. Last chance to get into the finals.

“Wha...?” He mumbled, his body jerking in earnest as the ball was stolen from the opposition in a particularly inspired move.

“Found this in your jeans pocket.” She dropped a piece of paper into his lap. “Didn’t know if it was important or not.” He thought he might have replied, but wasn’t exactly sure. If he did, it trailed off into quite an inventive diatribe as the other team scored.

“Want some more crisps?”

“You fucking moronic, cock-for-brains cunts, I can’t believe you...”

“I’ll get you some crisps. Salt and vinegar or tomato sauce?” She said serenely, and Nicky envied her calmness. This was the biggest game of the season! How could she possibly be so unruffled?

“...bollocking shit-eating twats...”

“Salt and vinegar. Be back in a second.”

He swore loudly as the half-time whistle blew and dropped his head into his hands, tears of anguish stinging his eyes. Bloody football getting him so bloody worked up. His team was going to fucking lose and all he could do was sit and watch. If they hadn’t kicked him off the team then he’d be... He opened his eyes resolutely, not having realised he’d squeezed them shut, and looked into his lap.

_Mark Fe..._

Nicky blinked as he saw the words sticking out from the crumpled paper. Checking that he was out of the way of prying eyes, he gingerly picked up the paper, his fingers running over the edges.

He could throw this out right now. He didn’t need to look. Mark was nothing to him, so why would he care what the guy had written on a stupid piece of paper? It didn’t matter. He could throw it out right now.

Nicky opened the paper.

_Mark Feehily_

Oh god and.

A phone number.

And kisses. Three of them. Cute little drunken-squiggly xxx that made Nicky’s heart flutter.

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

“Crisps.” He jumped as Georgina dumped the bowl next to him, her eyes flicking towards the paper before he could hide it.

“Mark...” She read over the paper quickly, and he shut his eyes again as she got to the kisses. “Aww baby.” She said after a second. “Someone’s got a crush.”

“What?!” Nicky squeaked. How could she possibly think that he had a crush on Mark? How could she be so calm about it? This was almost more important that football!

“Mark! He’s got a crush on you. Celia’s gonna be so jealous.” She batted her eyelids coyly at him. “That’s so sweet, love.” She giggled and began to pick up the empty glasses on the coffee table. “You gonna call him? He seemed like a nice lad, even if you are straight.”

Yeah, straight. He was straight.

“I dunno.” Well, that was a lie. He did know. He wasn’t going to call Mark. He couldn’t. What if Mark did have a crush on him? Nicky couldn’t lead him on like that. Those pretty blue eyes would be so hurt when...

The football came back on. Nicky looked at it, his eyes glassy, and then settled back to watch.

He tucked the paper into his back pocket. Just so he could throw it out later. When he got round to it, obviously. After the football.

Just not right now.


	4. Tackled

Mark yelped as he was tackled to the grass, Shane landing on top of him and pressing his face into the ground. He came up spitting mud and quickly reached behind him to flip Shane off, the football forgotten while he pinned the smaller boy.

“Gotcha!”

“Do not.” Shane laughed and relaxed into the ground, making Mark relax too. Then he realised he’d been had.

“Fuck! Shane!” He groaned as his face surfaced from the mud. “Gerroff!”

“Say ‘Shane’s the best’.”

“No.” Mark bucked, trying to dislodge his friend. Shane giggled.

“Say it.”

“How can I fucking say it if you keep putting my face in the mud?” There was a sharp jolt of pain when Shane pulled it free by yanking on Mark’s hair. “Jesus. Alright. Shane’s the best.”

“Thank you.” Shane stood up, seemingly losing interest in Mark’s plight. Mark stood slowly, brushing mud from his jersey, and then looked Shane straight in the eye.

“Not.”

He started running, hearing heavy steps behind him. “I’ll get you for that!”

Mark doubled over as he ran, his stomach hurting with laughter. “Uh uh. Your legs are too short to even get close.”

“Well at least...”

“Mark!”

It was lucky that Kian called out, because Mark had a slight suspicion that Shane was about to successfully tackle him again. He really was so unfit! “Call for you, mate.”

“Who is it?”

“Nicky.”

Nicky. Nicky oh god. Oh god oh god oh god oh god. What did he do? Did he answer or... Shane and Kian were staring at him. What would they think if he just hung up? What would Nicky thi... No! It didn’t matter what Nicky thought because... oh god.

“Hello?”

 

*

 

Oh god... melted chocolaty smooth voice, slightly breathless, and Nicky grudgingly spared a thought for what that would sound like underneath him, begging to come. He blinked to disperse the sudden heaviness in his eyes, a faraway portion of his mind realising that he hadn’t spoken in rather a long time.

“Hello?” Mark again. Jesus.

“Um hi.”

“Nicky?”

“Hey Mark, um...” Then he was completely stuck. Why hadn’t he thought what he was going to say before he’d rung? Telling Mark that he wanted to shag him into the carpet was completely inadvisable at this point and, Nicky reminded himself, completely untrue. Especially with Gina in the next room. “Are you um... are you... missing a set of keys?”

“...no.”

“Okay, that’s alright then.” Nicky blurted, his words running together somewhat unsteadily. “Just I found them in my car and I didn’t know if they might beyoursbecause...” Total lie. Totally _crappy_ lie. Pathetic, Nicholas.

“No. Erm... just let me check with Shane and Ki.” There was muffled conversation and then Mark was back. God, that voice. Nicky really didn’t want to have to explain his erection to Georgina. “No, we’re all fine. Sorry.”

“That’s okay.” Nicky nodded. “So uh... thanks for um... that.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Well...”

“Hey, you busy this weekend?”

 

*

 

Idiot, Mark. Idiot. He wasn’t even sure why he’d said it, but it was as if that husky voice had hypnotised him, making him forget completely where he was. All he knew was that he didn’t want Nicky to hang up, and then for them to never see each other again. God knew why he cared. Nicky was married, Mark was gay. Totally incompatible. But there was this heat in Nicky’s eyes whenever he looked Mark’s way that just...

“I... I yes.” Nicky said after a second. “My sister-in-law’s birthday is this Saturday, so.”

“Yeah, I’m busy this Sunday.” Mark said grudgingly, wishing like hell that he wasn’t. Bloody assignment that he had to get done before Monday, and he’d delegated that job to Sunday. Of course he _could_ do it Saturday, but knew that he probably wouldn’t. He was definitely a ‘last minute or not at all’ kind of guy.

“Oh. Okay.” Nicky’s voice sounded strained, and in the silence following Mark wondered whether he should just say goodbye now. He couldn’t even hear Nicky breathing.

“You could come?”

“Huh?”

“To the birthday party.” Nicky stammered. “You could come if you like. She wouldn’t mind if... well, there’ll be lots of drinks and a barbeque and... there’ll be loads of people there so I don’t think she’d even notice. You could bring Kian and Shane?”

Mark blinked.

“Just a sec.” Covering the mouthpiece he turned to look at the two expectant faces of his friends. “Um... Nicky’s sister-in-law’s birthday party’s this Saturday. Wanna go?”

They nodded eagerly. Shane gave him a disgustingly lecherous wink. Kian smirked.

“Yeah, they wanna go.” Mark replied, shoving Shane who, Mark could only guess, was doing a very bad impression of Mark going all swoony. Mark kicked his leg. Hard.

“Okay, great.” Then silence again.

“Where? When?”

“Oh!” Mark almost giggled at Nicky’s startled gasp. “Sorry, it’s... um...” he gave the address, and Mark quickly noted it down in his head. “Starts at ten.”

“In the morning?” Well, he had reason to ask. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done something in the morning, let alone been out of bed at that time.

“Yeah.”

“Okay. See you there.”

 

*

 

Nicky scuttled about the bedroom, trying desperately to find something to wear. He had millions of clothes, as Gina had insisted on pointing out rather snidely, but today nothing seemed _right_. He wished he had a pair of those lovely dark jeans Mark had worn at that club the other night. He wondered, offhandedly of course, what Mark would be wearing today. Navy or dark purple would definitely suit him. Maybe black, or a dark yellow or brown or green.

Nicky threw a pair of black leather trousers aside, jumping as they landed squarely in Georgina’s face. He hadn’t even noticed her coming in!

“Gina... shit! Don’t do that to me!”

“What? Stand in my own bedroom?” She rolled her eyes, bending to pick up one of her sandals from under the bed and sitting down to pull it on. “For Christ sakes, it’s only Celia. You’ve never worried about dressing up before!”

“I’m not worried!” He winced as his voice cracked, and buried his face in a drawer to hide a blush. “I just have nothing to wear!”

“Wear your Levis and… that blue t-shirt. Honestly, Nicky. You wore them the other day with no problems.”

“But I... okay.” He knew he couldn’t argue anymore without seeming suspicious. Not that she should be suspicious of anything, but he knew how paranoid she got sometimes. Like that time he went out and she got all angry cos he wouldn’t say where he’d been.

It was none of her business if he was with... Rock? Rick? Rich?

Fuck.

 

*

 

“What the fuck am I gonna wear?!” The look Kian shot over alerted him to the fact that he was whining, and he toned it down, standing up straight. And not flapping his hands either. God, did he want people to think he was gay or something? He wasn’t Shane for fuck’s sakes.

“A t-shirt or something.” Kian shrugged from the armchair. “Come on Mark, we’re leaving in five minutes. Even _I’m_ ready, and my hairdryer’s broken.”

“Shut up.” Mark sighed, sinking down on the couch and putting his head in his hands.

“What’s wrong with what you’re wearing?”

“It makes me look fat!”

“You _are_ fat!” Mark gave Kian a look that said that the comment definitely wasn’t appreciated, and got a small amount of satisfaction out of the fact that Kian’s face turned a little red. “I was just kidding! You’re gorgeous.” Mark groaned, dropping his head onto the arm of the couch. A hand patted his arm and he looked up to see Kian smiling at him in something approaching sympathy, at least for Kian Egan: emotional fuckwit extraordinaire.

“Come on, I’ll help you pick something out. Nicky’ll be blowing you in his sister-in-law’s laundry.”

“Kian!”

“Mark!” Mark had to laugh as Kian tugged him through to the bedroom.

 

*

 

Nicky glanced over at the door for what had to be the millionth time. He’d barely kept his eyes off it, terrified that Mark would come in and he wouldn’t notice. It was common courtesy, he told himself. He was the only person here that Mark knew, so it was his duty to introduce him to people, show him round.

“Nicky.” He nearly jumped out of his skin as someone spoke into his ear and turned to glare at Cecelia, who had just popped up out of nowhere, and handed him a drink.

“Celia! Shit!”

“Penny for your thoughts?” She smirked at him, flicking her hair back off her shoulder with one hand in a move terrifyingly reminiscent of Georgina. “You look like you’re on something. Keep glancing over your shoulder. What’s up? Are the giant purple aardvarks stalking you again?”

“Fuck off, Cecelia.”

“Ooh touchy.” She grinned at him, scratching her nose in a very ‘Georgina’ manner. He wondered if they’d gotten it from their mother, and made a mental note to check it out later. “Georgie’s told me you invited some friends.”

“Yeah. Do you not mind?”

“Nah, course not. More the merrier.” She took a large swig of her drink. “The music here’s shit. I’m going to go change it. Bloody awful. Idiot crooners doing vocal acrobatics on perfectly good songs, thinking they’re some kind of god’s gift to Sinatra. I’m gonna go find some rock music or something.”

“You know, it’s very bad to be so drunk at eleven in the morning.”

“Ah, fuck it. It’s my birthday!” She swayed a little as her hand moved through the air like some kind of deranged fruitbat. “Let’s get hammered!”

“Maybe later.” He patted her on the back as she began to head for the glass sliding door that led onto the patio, the noise of the music reaching his ears. He winced. It really was crap. It skipped a little and then he heard the rather fetching strains of Weather Girls start up, Celia’s slightly off-key voice rising up over everyone else’s as she belted out It’s Raining Men.

He rolled his eyes, and turned around to continue his watch on the front door, but then his breath caught.

Mark was here.

 

*

 

Mark carefully poked his head through the slightly open front door, yelping as Kian pushed him aside and simply barged in, followed by Shane. Looking around for a minute, he finally spotted Nicky talking to a rather drunk young woman, who was gesticulating wildly at him. He was smiling, as if he had been in this situation before. As she staggered off, he rolled his eyes, and Mark craned his neck as he turned, hoping to attract Nicky’s attention.

He did.

“Mark!” Nicky strode over straight away, and Mark felt pinned by the deep blue gaze that bored straight through him. His breath caught, but he thankfully managed to start breathing again before Nicky spoke.

“How are ye?”

“I... I’m good.” Mark realised he’d been grinning too long when his cheeks began to hurt. “Um... how about you?”

“I’m okay. Yeah. Where are your mates?”

“I... actually don’t know.” They’d completely disappeared now, and Mark craned his neck, trying to spot them. There was a loud yell from somewhere down the hall and he winced. “They’ve found booze.”

“Do you want a drink too?”

Mark nodded. “Beer?” He needed it. Christ. His heart was going mental and he thought he was developing the shakes.

“Yep. Come on.” Mark followed Nicky outside, where the rather plastered girl he had seen earlier was trying to disco dance with another girl. There was rather a lot of flailing, but not much rhythm, and Mark snickered to himself as he finally found Kian and Shane leant over a bath filled with drinks and melting ice.

“Nicky!” Kian grinned, handing Mark a drink. “How are ye?”

“I’m good.” Nicky nodded, and Mark watched (rather pathetically) as his lips pursed into the sexiest pout he’d ever seen. “You?”

“Yeah, we’re good!” Shane slung his arm around Kian’s shoulder, a bottle clutched in his death grip and being opened skilfully with just the thumb of that hand. “Where’s the birthday girl?”

“Er... trying to breakdance I think?” Nicky pointed over at the drunken girl Mark had spotted only minutes ago, making Shane and Kian laugh. “Celia!”

“Yeah!” She got up from the ground and staggered over, grinning unsteadily at all of them. “Hi!”

“Hi.” Nicky replied, taking her arm. “Cecilia, this is Kian, Shane, and Mark.” Mark couldn’t help the light blush that spread over his cheeks as Nicky pointed at him. “Remember I told you I was inviting them?”

“Oh yeah, right!” She shook all their hands. “Mark... you’re the cute one!”

“Er... what?” Mark blinked. Who had told her that? Surely not Nicky!

“Yeah, Georgina said you’re cute.” Mark felt his heart fall. Stupid, Mark. Stupid. “Gay though, right?”

“Um... right.” Mark nodded, scratching his neck and glancing furtively at Nicky, who looked a little flushed. Funny, he didn’t think it was that hot today.

“Ah too bad. She was right. Oh well.” She shrugged and, turning to Shane, leered suggestively. “How about you?”

“Sorry. Absolute queer.”

“Bugger. Um... Kian?”

“Yeah me too.”

“Christ.” She groaned, resting her head on Nicky’s shoulder. “All the good men are gay, aren’t they?”

“Or married.” Kian piped up, and Mark was mortified to see him glancing meaningfully between him and Nicky. Oh god, why couldn’t the earth swallow him right now?

“All bastards.” She grumbled.

“Okay Celia.” Mark looked up to see Georgina cross over to them and take her sister’s arm. “Want another drink? Hey Mark.” She reached over to shake his hand, and Mark quickly introduced Kian and Shane, who nodded at her. She led Celia away, and Mark looked around to see Shane and Kian halfway across the room and still moving, straight towards what Mark could only ascertain, from this distance, were two cute guys.

“So.” He turned back at the sound of Nicky’s voice, panicking as he realised it was he and Nicky. Alone. By themselves. With nothing between them but air.

Shit.

“So um... are the guys they’re trying to shag straight or what?”

Nicky looked confused, so Mark gestured over to where the two men were flirting almost outrageously.

“Apparently so.” They both laughed as the prospective beaus stalked off together, going to the other side of the room where they linked arms with two women, leaving Shane and Kian looking crestfallen, but only for a moment. Kian immediately made a beeline towards a ginger standing near the stereo, and Shane leant casually against the fence to wink at a passing blond.

“Pathetic.” Mark snorted, turning back to Nicky. “Could they be any worse?” Well, yes, maybe. If they were desperately in more-than-like with married straight men that had absolutely no interest in them.

“You tell me; you know them better.”

“The sad thing is that this is nowhere near their worst.” Mark laughed, indicating Kian, who looked about ready to hump the guy’s leg. “Get a drink into them and you’ll learn some really interesting new things.”

“Uh… I think I’ll give that a miss.” Nicky smirked, and Mark felt even more crestfallen than Shane and Ki had looked. Right. Nicky was totally straight. Could the world maybe _stop_ sending him signals? He got it, alright?

“Yeah, well.” He had to get out of here, right now! Why had he even decided to come? Did he want to kick his own arse? “Look, I’m gonna go stop Kian from embarrassing himself. I’ll... see you round, yeah?”

 

*

 

“Yeah.” Nicky nodded, trying not to let the incredible amount of disappointment he was feeling invade his voice. Mark smiled, and then disappeared over to Kian, taking his arm and whispering something in his ear, a smirk on his face. Nicky shook his head as his cheeks grew hot. It must be a warmer day than he’d originally thought.

He jumped as a pair of arms encircled his waist, and turned to look at Georgina, who grinned back.

“Hey.”

“Hey. Where’d you put your darling sister?”

“Her head’s over the toilet.” Georgina rolled her eyes. “Silly git. Quite taken with Shane though. Kept saying she could turn him.”

“Shane’s got a thing for Bryan.” Nicky snorted. Georgina looked at him wide-eyed.

“Really? Does he know?”

“Yep.” Nicky pointed in the direction of Bryan, a direction he’d spotted Shane moving not much earlier. They were leaning against the fence, drinks in hands, talking animatedly. But Shane’s face was pointed down, his eyes looking up in what was definitely a suggestive manner, not helped by the fact that Bryan’s arm was draped casually around his shoulders. “Shane reckons he can turn him.”

“Fat chance.” Gina snorted. “He loves Kerry and the kids too much.”

“I know that, and so does Shane, I think.” Nicky shrugged. “But it’s fun watching him try.”

“Mmm.” Georgina leant her head against his shoulder, and Nicky hugged her, trying to resist the urge to push her away. He knew Mark was somewhere, able to see them, and as much as he hated to admit it, he’d rather be holding Mark like this. Georgina just felt wrong. It was as if they didn’t _fit_ anymore. Something was missing, a space that had never been there before and had been growing steadily wider for the past few months. Years maybe. Nicky didn’t know. Denial was a powerful thing.

“Love you.” He whispered honestly. She’d been a part of his life for ages, his best friend. He did love her. But.

“Love you too, babe.” She murmured, kissing him. She felt nice, tasted sweet, but that was all. It was just a nice kiss between two friends. She pulled back after a moment, and smiled at him curiously, as if she could sense the change. “I gotta go restock the chips, so.”

“I’ll do it for you?” He had to get away. The offer was acknowledged with a smile. She hugged him, stepping back.

“Thanks love. I just saw Sera, from school, so I might go chat to her. See you in a bit.”

 

*

 

Reaching for a crisp, Mark sighed, glancing at Nicky out of the corner of his eye. And Georgina. God, they were so wrapped up in each other, so cute and together. Hugging, and kissing, and all that. And it was at that moment that Mark realised that he didn’t, in fact, have a hope in hell.

Denial had been a powerful thing up until now, but looking at the two of them, so happy together, Mark knew that there was no way he could even consider destroying that. Not that Nicky would ever consider it either, and that was the point, really. Nicky was straight. That was it. No questions, no alternatives. Nicky was straight, married, and in love. Mark was just in love.

Well, that was probably stretching it. He’d known Nicky for less than a month. But still, the pull was undeniably there; an invisible line, dragging him in closer to the older lad, making him _want_. More than he could remember wanting _anything_ in recent times. Nicky was perfect. For Georgina.

Mark bit his lip, shaking his head when he realised there were no crisps left in the bowl. He sighed, blinking away approaching tears, and jumped when a hand landed on his shoulder.

“Fucking hell, Bryan! Don’t scare me like that!”

“Like what?” Bryan reached forward for a crisp, face showing his disappointment when it proved to be empty. He groaned. “You ate the crisps, didn’t you?”

“No! It was empty when I got here!” Asserted Mark, pulling himself up to his full height under Bryan’s playfully menacing grin. “I swear!”

“Oh well. You gotta get more. You found it first.” Bryan shrugged. “There’s some in the garage, with all the other party stuff.” He gave Mark a gentle shove in the right direction. “Go on, then.”

“Alright, alright!” Raising his hands in defeat, Mark headed in the direction of the garage. Which was probably a good thing, because in the corner of his eye he could see Nicky advancing on the two of them, a wistfully lovestruck look on his face. Not something Mark needed to see.

 

*

 

“Hey Bryan.” Nicky swiped the empty bowl from the table, heading towards the garage without pause. Bryan looked like he was about to say something, but Nicky ignored it, needing to be by himself for a few minutes, the crisps a perfect excuse. He was going through a fucking identity crisis at a fucking birthday party, where millions of fucking people were trying to talk to him. Just his luck. The one time when he might need to be alone and think. Not that he was blaming anyone, oh no. Well, except for Mark. This was all his stupid fault.

And, of course, he was the first person Nicky saw when he opened the garage door.

God, it was a nice sight too. Mark was stretched up to the high shelf, a tiny sliver of flesh peeking through the gap between baggy denim jeans and a lovely green pullover. It looked so soft too, and the urge to just reach out and _touch_ was enough to make Nicky shove his hands in his jean pockets, his eyes still fixed to Mark’s bum.

“What are you after?”

Mark jumped and spun around, gasping when he realised who it was. Nicky smirked. “Jesus, don’t do that!”

“Do what?” Nicky laughed, coming to stand beside him and jumping for the bag of crisps that had been placed on an unreasonably high shelf. “Bloody hell. Can you reach that?”

“That’s what I was trying to do!” Mark laughed, stretching up again and groping unsuccessfully. When he tried to hoist himself up onto the unstable bench, Nicky winced, putting a hand on his arm, placing the bowl down next to them on the bench.

“Don’t, it’ll collapse. There’s probably a chair around here I can stand on.”

They hunted quickly, Nicky coming up with a small foot-ladder that was hidden behind the door. He grabbed it, unfolded it quickly and climbed up, wobbling precariously.

“Do you want me to hold you?”

 

*

 

Oh shit! That had come out so wrong it wasn’t even worth thinking about, and when Nicky turned around to look at him oddly, he felt a blush go from his scalp to his toenails.

“Er... what?”

 

*

 

“Do you... uh... want me to hold the ladder steady?”

“That’d be good.” Nicky smiled, turning back around and reaching for the chips, still having to stand on tiptoes. He finally managed to grab them, and turned back around, grinning triumphantly, and came face-to-face with...

Mark.

“Got them.”

“Yeah.” Mark licked his lips, slowly moving back again, and Nicky watched the tongue move, imagining that on parts of his body that were beginning to show a great deal of interest. Mark was still holding the ladder, probably waiting for Nicky to climb down. Nicky swallowed.

“Yeah.”

 

*

 

Mark felt himself go dizzy, Nicky’s scent suddenly overwhelming with the proximity. His lips were too dry, and he licked them again, feeling his throat close up. Nicky was staring at him, eyes darker than Mark remembered them being. He saw Nicky swallow.

“Um...”

“Uh...” Mark replied, trying to hold the ladder steady whilst his body trembled. Nicky was almost pressed against him, his body so close, his lips just...

And then, suddenly, Nicky was kissing him.

 

*

 

Oh, fuck, Nicky couldn’t believe what he was doing! He was in his sister-in-law’s garage, within feet of his wife, and he was kissing someone else. A man, no less. But in the few seconds the kiss lasted, Nicky knew he was addicted, Mark’s taste rolling over him, and making him press harder against him, arms coming around his neck while Mark kept the ladder steady with both hands. Mark made a surprised noise in his throat, and Nicky stepped back, panting and trembling.

“I...”

 

*

 

Oh fuck! Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck! It had to be a dream, it had to. Straight men did not kiss other men at their sister-in-law’s birthday parties with their wives mere feet away! It just didn’t happen, not to him! And no straight man was supposed to taste that good, or be that good a kisser, or...

“Um...”

 

*

 

“Uh... I... I’m sorry... Uh...” Nicky couldn’t even form a complete sentence, he was so surprised by his own actions. Mark was staring at him, lips red, eyes wide, his face a picture of surprise, and Nicky jumped down from the ladder, ducking away and pressing against the furthest corner. “I... I didn’t mean to...” His lips were tingling, and he reached up to touch them gingerly, seeing Mark do the same. “Um, shit.”

“Yeah.” Mark’s voice shook. “Uh... what...?”

“I... I don’t... know.” Nicky breathed. “I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t.” And yet it had felt so fucking _right_. “It... you... you won’t tell anyone, right?”

“No.” Mark shook his head, leaning against the bench, arms crossed defensively. “No. Course not.” He swallowed. “Why did you...?”

 

*

 

Mark had to know. He had to. What Nicky felt for him, why he had just done that... everything. His head was spinning, and he needed to anchor himself, find out what was going on here, and why his world had suddenly tipped upside down. He swallowed again.

“Nicky?”

“I don’t _know_!” Nicky exclaimed, his face starting to pale. “Jesus. I’m sorry.”

“That’s... that’s okay...” Mark attempted, shuffling closer to where Nicky was curled up in the corner, looking up at him with giant, confused eyes. He crouched down, not daring to touch him, and then sat cross-legged, forcing a smile. “You okay?”

Nicky shook his head, burying his face in his arms. “Nope.” The giggle was slightly hysterical. “I shouldn’t have done that. I... I...” He sobbed. “Fucking hell. Can you just... just go? Please... I’m not... I...”

Mark nodded, feeling Nicky’s request hit him straight in the gut. Standing up again and taking a step back, he smiled tentatively, swallowing. “Uh... yeah. Sure. D’you want me to take the crisps back out?”

Nicky nodded, and Mark quickly grabbed the bowl and packet, heading for the door. He slammed it behind him, striding as unsuspiciously as he knew how across the lawn and past Kian and Shane, who looked at him strangely. But he took no notice, just dumped the crisps and kept on walking, hearing the thunder of his friends’ feet behind him.

 

*

 

“Nicky, mate, what are you... oh.” Nicky heard Bryan’s voice before he saw him, his face buried in his arms as it was. Looking up, he attempted a smile, feeling it drown.

“H...hey Bry.”

“Uh... hey.” Bryan bit his lip, and then shut the door behind him, crouching down. “I saw Mark running, and you didn’t come out so I thought I’d see what was happening. What’s happening?”

“Nothing.” There was no way he could tell his friend. No way. The very thought that anyone might find out about this was sickening. “I just... it’s nothing. Don’t worry.”

“Nicky, mate.” Bryan sighed, studying him. His gaze slid to the middle distance, obviously thinking, and then it cleared again, his face becoming angry. “Did he do something? Like... did he try something on? Cos if he did...”

“No! No it wasn’t anything like that!” Nicky exclaimed, putting a hand on Bryan’s arm to reassure him. “No. God no. I just...” He swallowed. “I’m not feeling very well.”

“I’ll take you home.”

Nicky sniffed.


	5. Tell Me To Stop

“Do you want a Twix?”

Mark shook his head, leaning back against the couch and staring at the blank television screen. He heard Shane sigh.

“Cup of tea?”

“No.”

“Um... banana?”

“I’m fine.”

“Sure you are.” He looked up to see Shane stride over and turn on the television with the hand that wasn’t clutching his chocolate. “Look, at least have the bloody television on if ya gonna be staring at it.” Wheel of Fortune came on, and Mark stared blankly at it. “What’s wrong? You’ve barely spoken since Saturday. It’s Tuesday. Say something.”

“Gone With the Wind.”

“What?” Shane crossed his arms, his face a picture of confusion.

“Gone With the Wind. A film.” Mark gestured at the television, where a skinny model was turning around letters. “It’s Gone With The Wind.”

“Sure it fucking is.” Shane turned the telly off again and sat down, reaching out for Mark’s forehead. The hand was batted away immediately, and Mark pulled a face at Shane, tugging his blanket tighter around his neck. “I just wanted to see if you were warm. Are you sick, or what?”

“I’m fine.” Mark grumbled, wishing Shane would just sod off. “Leave me alone.”

Lifting his hands in exasperation, Shane sighed, standing up and stalking away. Mark watched him go, tugging the blanket around his neck with satisfaction. Why did he bloody have the couch bed anyway? There was no privacy, none at all. It wasn’t fair. He just wanted to be left alone, couldn’t they see that?

Shane and Kian went out not long after, Shane throwing a parting remark over his shoulder intimating that Mark better be happy before they get back or his face was going to be given all the consistency of an over-ripe mango. Mark shrugged, pressing said face into the couch and letting out a long, loud groan once the other two were out of earshot, feeling Nicky still tingling on his lips.

That kiss had been... well... good. Really good. Really, really, really good. Good enough that his head was still reeling three days later. The way Nicky had reacted hadn’t been so good. And the thing was, he hadn’t even started it. Nicky had. Nicky had kissed him. Hard, and passionately, the heat behind it tangible and definite. There had been want in that kiss. Nicky had wanted him. And Mark...

Mark didn’t know what he was supposed to do.

He turned back to the television, where Wheel Of Fortune had turned into noon re-runs of the Weakest Link, and kicked out with his foot, turning the TV off. The screen turned black. He shut his eyes, remembering the hard crush of slender lips over his, the soft force of that tongue in his mouth. The strong arms that wound around his neck, forcing him closer while he helplessly gripped the ladder with both hands. Nicky’s chest against his, their hearts pounding hard against each other. Mark hadn’t even been able to breathe, but it didn’t matter because Nicky was kissing him. Consuming him.

He groaned, feeling his cock harden as he thought about it. He ignored it, squeezing his eyes tighter and pounding the cushion with his fist, a muffled scream bursting into it. And all the while, he felt those hot lips crushing his, hands clenching at his nape, and the complete helplessness Nicky always made him feel.

 

*

 

“I’m going to work. You ring me if you need anything?”

Nicky nodded, not lifting his face from the pillow. He’d been sick for three days. Officially anyway. Truthfully, he hadn’t been able to move from the bed, or even been able to speak. If he did, he was sure he was either going to burst into tears or throw up. What he’d done was unforgivable, and yet, he wasn’t sure he wanted to take it back. But he did, because he was hurting Georgina, even if she didn’t know it, and there was nothing he could do.

And god, that kiss had been good.

He’d felt Mark tense under him as he’d done it, the sudden shock, but then Mark had kissed him back, had let himself be pulled further into the kiss. And it had been hot. Nicky hadn’t wanted someone, truly wanted them, so much in... ages. It was so purely sexual and erotic that he’d wanted to come right then and there.  
And then his brain had kicked in and all he’d wanted to do was die.

Bryan had tried to talk to him in the car, but Nicky had remained unresponsive, too numb and confused to reply. He’d told Georgina he was sick, and of course Bryan was suspicious about what had happened. He’d seen Mark run, apparently, but Nicky didn’t have the strength to tell him. What would Bryan think of him if he did? He was friends with Georgina too. Georgina would find out. He couldn’t tell anyone. This had to stay between him and Mark.

His whole world would collapse.

He couldn’t deal with this.

God, what if Mark told someone? Even if it was Kian or Shane? This couldn’t get out. It couldn’t. He felt the panic bubble suddenly into his throat as he realised. This wasn’t just his secret. Someone else out there knew, and what might he say? What if he was feeling angry towards Nicky and did it out of spite? Mark didn’t seem the type, but the honest truth was, Nicky didn’t know him that well.

Nicky picked up the phone. He’d do whatever it took.

 

*

 

Mark heard the phone ring, but stayed where he was. It was probably just Shane, harassing him. Telling him to get off the couch and eat something. He could go fuck himself.

 

*

 

Nicky let the phone ring out, and dialled again. It was Mark’s mobile, so there was no way it could just be because he was out and not close to the phone. He rang again, but again it rang out. Mark must know it was him, and not want to talk to him. Nicky really couldn’t remember what he’d said to him, how he had made Mark leave. Mark could be murderous for all he knew.

Grabbing some clothes, he tugged them on. He needed to get this sorted, once and for all.

 

*

 

The doorbell rang, pulling Mark out of his near comatose stupor, and he looked up through bleary eyes, sighing when someone rapped hard on the door. It was probably bloody Shane and Kian again, wanting to get something they’d left behind. If they couldn’t get back in, it was probably their keys. He pulled himself up with a groan, stumbling to the door.

“Uh... hi.”

Unable to do anything else, Mark blinked, not sure that his eyes weren’t betraying him. Stood there, eyes unfocused, clothes rumpled, was Nicky. He was looking somewhere past Mark, but not really seeing anything, and suddenly Mark was very aware of his own mussed hair, his own scruffy clothes, and his own red eyes. Nicky swallowed, and then looked at him.

“I... I wanted to talk to you. Can we talk for a second?”

“Erm... sure.” Mark stepped out of the way, letting the smaller boy past. The doorway wasn’t very big, but still Nicky managed to get through without letting even an inch of them touch. Mark followed him into the living room, feeling heavy all over.

“Do you... do you want a drink or... or something?” He stumbled over the words, feeling their uselessness. Nicky shrugged.

“It’s okay.”

“Okay.” Mark mumbled, glancing around the room. His brain suddenly kicked into action. He reached out to shove the blankets off the couch, and then stepped back, his gaze shifting for a moment to Nicky. “Do you want to sit?”

Nicky sat, then looked down at his hands, breathing in a huge gulp of air and swallowing it. Mark sat down next to him, aware of Nicky’s reluctance to touch him. They sat silently for a moment before Nicky finally spoke, startling Mark from his half daydream.

“I’m sorry.” Nicky said. Mark looked up. “I’m... I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have... done what I did. I don’t know why I did. It was... it was stupid and... I’m sorry.”

Mark felt his stomach reach his toes, and his heart take its place. Nicky was looking at him, as if expecting him to say something. Mark didn’t know what to say.

“It’s okay.” He said finally. Wasn’t that what you said in this kind of situation? Except it wasn’t okay. It really wasn’t okay. But Nicky needed him to say it was.

“Thank you.” Nicky’s hands were shaking. Mark wanted to reach out and touch them, make it stop, but he couldn’t. Nicky had just told him, more or less, that there was no chance. Which Mark had known all along, obviously. But still, all he wanted to do was hold the older lad and tell him that it was okay, they could just be friends or... or nothing at all. Nicky could just walk out the door and they could never see each other again.

But it wasn’t that simple, was it? He’d fallen in fucking love. Love, Jesus, and there was nothing... nothing he could do about it. Nicky would leave. That was probably all he had to say, so in minutes he’d be gone. Striding resolutely out of Mark’s life.

“Was... was that all?”

Nicky’s head, which was resting in his palm, shook, his eyes frowning. Mark reached out, putting his hand near Nicky’s shaking one on the seat, but didn’t touch.

“Nicky?”

“You can’t tell anyone.” Nicky blurted suddenly. “You can’t! Please don’t tell anyone!” He sounded almost hysterical. “I can’t... I can’t... Georgina, she can’t know... no-one can know... please...” His voice lowered to a whisper, heavy with despair. “Please don’t tell anyone. Please.”

Mark swallowed.

 

*

 

After a long moment, Nicky looked up cautiously, not sure what he was going to see in Mark’s face. Anger, maybe; disgust. His heart hammered against his ribs, but to his surprise, Mark was nodding, an indefinable look in his eyes. It could have been hurt, or resignation, or just indifference. Mark’s face was blank, the slow nod making Nicky’s breath catch in his throat. He swallowed hard.

“Thank you.” He breathed, relief flooding him. “So much.”

Mark shrugged, his eyes turning to bore into Nicky’s, suddenly no longer blank. A flash of... something... blazed momentarily in their depths, and Nicky felt himself harden against his best intentions. Because, no matter how much he didn’t want to, he had to admit that Mark was very attractive. If Nicky had been gay, it would have been just the type of man he’d go for.

If he had been gay. Which he wasn’t. This whole thing was just a stupid mistake.

Mark looked away again. Nicky nodded at his averted face, going to stand.

“Wait.” Mark’s hand gripped his wrist, pulling him back down onto the awkward springs of the couch. They stared at each other for a second. Then Mark exhaled slowly. “Why?” Nicky wanted to look away, but he couldn’t, too trapped by those enormous, questioning blue eyes. “Why did you kiss me?”

“I... I don’t know.” Nicky choked on the words, fatally aware of the press of Mark’s thigh against his, the soft pressure of one bare arm against his own side. There was sudden heat all up his side, the kind of searing, intense heat he hadn’t felt since he and Georgina’s first few months together, that kind of relentless passion that burned behind your eyeballs and swirled in your belly. Nicky gasped, not meaning to. Mark’s eyebrows knitted in the middle.

“Nicky?”

“Mark I... It’s... it’s not...” He stammered, very aware of how much closer they had gotten over the last few moments. Mark’s hand was rested on his thigh, his eyes spitting fire, his lips just there...

“I’m sorry. I don’t know if I... if I led you on... or...” Mark mumbled, and it was then that Nicky realised that Mark wasn’t the one moving nearer. He was. Mark shifted in his seat, bringing them even closer together. Nicky swallowed hard.

“I’m not... I’m not gay.” He replied slowly. “I... love Georgi...”

He was cut off by Mark’s lips.

 

*

 

Mark felt Nicky’s groan all the way along his spine, not sure who had initiated this thing, but definitely not wanting to be the one to stop it. Nicky tasted like hot, sweet honey, his tongue winding into Mark’s suddenly willing mouth. In the back of his mind, he was dimly aware of the fact that Nicky was married, and purportedly straight at that. But Nicky was moaning deep in his throat and moving even closer, his hand coming across Mark’s lap and tightening around his hip. Mark heard himself whimper, possibly the most embarrassing sound he’d ever made, and found himself flat on his back a moment later, Nicky on top of him, the hard press of cock against his thigh.

“Nicky...” Okay, he had to stop it. He was fucking in love with this guy, and he was practically being molested. Not that it was against his will, but, well... the circumstances weren’t exactly ideal. “...you love Georgi...”

He was cut off by Nicky’s lips.

“I’m so sorry.” Nicky mumbled into the kiss, tears leaking from behind his closed lids and onto Mark’s cheeks. “Tell me to stop. I will. Just tell me to.”

Mark wanted to. He really did. But... Nicky.

“Do you want me to?”

“I don’t know!” Nicky exclaimed, pressing down harder, grinding them together. “This isn’t fair, it isn’t...” He was wrenching at Mark’s jeans already, almost ripping them, and Mark helped by lifting his hips, not exactly sure what he was doing. Then they were off and he could feel Nicky’s denim grinding into his naked cock, making him scrabble desperately at the cushions, his fingers tingling from the pressure.

“I... I want you... and... it... isn’t fair...” Nicky sobbed, the kiss he forced onto Mark’s lips wet and salty with tears. “Please... I can’t... don’t make me go... I don’t know what to do...”

Suddenly he collapsed, his whole body racked with deep, thrusting sobs. Mark didn’t know what to do, so gently stroked his back, trying to soothe, but starkly aware that he was completely naked below the waist, and the fact that the words ‘I want you’ had passed Nicky’s lips not moments before.

“I’m so sorry.” Nicky gulped, his hot tears burning Mark’s throat. “What do I do?”

“I don’t know.” Mark breathed. “I really don’t. I’m sorry.”

“I... I love Georgina... I’m sure I do... I’m...”

“It’s okay.” It wasn’t. It really wasn’t.

“No it’s not.” It was not quite a laugh, and more than a sob. It rang in Mark’s ears like a thousand screams. Nicky’s voice was so hollow and empty, so despairing, and confused, and scared. He stroked Nicky’s hair. A low moan echoed from Nicky’s throat.

“I didn’t ask to be like this.”

“I know you didn’t.” Mark murmured. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not.” Nicky repeated in a whisper. “I’m not gay.”

“I know.”

“I’m not...” The small body shook like a leaf in Mark’s arms, suddenly so fragile. And it was very wrong that all Mark wanted to do was kiss the pain away. Nicky tensed suddenly, his whole body going into convulsions. He was beating Mark’s chest with his hands, and Mark pushed him away, afraid of being hurt. When they sat up and parted, gazing at each other from opposite ends of the couch, he was shocked to see the deep, black and crimson holes that Nicky’s eyes had become, reflecting nothing at all, just ringed by their own sorrow. Mark reached out his hand.

“Nicky.” He put it down gently on the older boy’s ankle. “Do you want to talk?”

“I... yes?” It sounded like the entire rest of Nicky’s life had been turned into a question. Mark supposed it had been certain before that. The dream, or whatever. Wife, kids, picket fence. Smacking another man in the head with a lorry door and trying to dry hump him probably didn’t quite fit into the equation.

“Okay.” Mark said. “I’ll just put some pants on.”


	6. Like That

A few minutes later, a cup of hot tea clasped between his shaking hands, Nicky wasn’t feeling any better. Well, the fact that Mark was wearing trousers made him feel a bit better, but it was such an infinitesimal detail that it was of no real consequence, not in the grand scheme of things.

“So.” Mark sat down next to him, holding his own tea. The liquid was sloshing slightly, Nicky noted, along with the trembling of the darker lad’s hands.

“So.” He echoed, his own voice hollow. “Um.”

Mark sighed, interrupting him. “So you’re not gay?”

“Of course not.” Nicky snapped. Of course he wasn’t. How dare Mark suggest such a thing? He was just confused and having a bad week. Maybe it was cold feet about the idea of starting a family with Georgina. No matter what, he was not gay. He couldn’t be.

“...right.” Mark let out a long, deliberate breath. “So, what are you then?”

“I’m not gay.” Nicky repeated. “I’m just... I’m...” Having a bad week suddenly didn’t sound plausible anymore, not when he thought of how it would sound leaving his lips. And this had been going on longer than a week, hadn’t it? Rock... Rich... Rick... whatever, could attest to that. Assuming he still remembered Nicky’s name. Nicky’s face blushed hot with shame. “...I’m fucked up.” He concluded, not looking at Mark, but seeing in his mind’s eye the reproachful look he was probably getting. “Jesus, I’m sorry.” He added, closing his eyes tight. “I don’t know what came over me.”

Mark breathed, Nicky heard him.

“Have you ever... done anything with a man before?”

“No.” Liar. A dry, acid feeling swirled sickly in his stomach. “Maybe. Yes. I don’t know.” He conceded. “Yes. Sort of.”

“What happened?”

“It was just a stupid thing.” Nicky’s teeth almost hurt from grinding together so hard, angry at the way he was giving up his secret so easily. But Mark had promised not to tell, and somewhere in the back of his addled mind, Nicky knew he wouldn’t. Mark seemed too honest for that. And sweet, and kind and just... lovely. He was good friend. Could be a good friend.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Nicky repeated. “I got drunk... and... this guy...” He stopped, swallowing. “It was a mistake. I didn’t enjoy it, I was drunk. I don’t remember much... really...”

Except the stab of stubble against his cheek. Except the sweet, salty taste of his own fluid against his lips, pressed there by narrow, demanding lips. Except low, masculine groans that made his cock twitch every time he thought of it. Except for the feeling of a flat chest pushing down on him, held up by strong, muscular arms. Except the hard, hot press of a cock against his. No, he didn’t remember it at all.

“It was a stupid mistake.”

“Because you were drunk.” Mark said softly, in the kind of voice that said ‘because being drunk makes you gay for half an hour’. It was sarcastic, but it was trying not to be. Nicky appreciated the effort.

“Yeah. No. I don’t know. It had to be, didn’t it? I’m not gay.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

“But if I... did that... with a guy. That makes me...”

“Not really.” Mark shrugged, his hand becoming a soft, warm circle around Nicky’s own. “It doesn’t make you anything.” Nicky looked up, and in that moment the truth burned out hard and sharp from behind the thin film of confused tears in Mark’s eyes. Mark wanted him to be something. Nicky swallowed.

“How do you feel about me?” He whispered.

A few things happened at once. Mark’s lips pursed until they almost disappeared. Suddenly, there were no eyes burning into Nicky’s, they were directed at the carpet. And the hand was gone from around his wrist. But after a few moment’s heavy pause, during which the entire world seemed to swing above them like a pendulum, it crashed back to the way it had been. That soft weight touched his hand, and Mark stared back at him, his lips slightly parted.

“Nicky... I like you. You’re a good person and I...” He paused. “This isn’t about me. Not right now it isn’t. We have to talk about...”

“I don’t want to.” Nicky interrupted, feeling something lodge in his throat when he saw the panicked look Mark gave him. But he pushed forward regardless. This was something he had to know. “I need to know first. I need to so that I can...” He shut his eyes, trying to blot out the confusion roaring in his brain.

“Isn’t how you feel about me more important?” Mark said softly. “You know, to know if you’re gay or not? It doesn’t matter how I feel. I’ll get over it.”

“So you do like me?” Nicky laughed, aware of the crack in his own voice. Mark gave him a despairing look. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I... god, where do I start with how I feel about you?”

 

*

 

Something constricted sharply in Mark’s throat. Although he suspected the answer, he wasn’t sure how he’d feel about it if it was proved to be true. Nicky was married, straight, and probably so fucked up in the head right now it didn’t bear thinking about. It would be phenomenally stupid to get himself caught up in that. And yet he wanted to, so badly it made his insides ache, right down into his fucking liver if he was going to get into specifics. And if Nicky didn’t feel the way he suspected, that would be made so much infinitely worse that he thought he might self-destruct. Nothing Nicky could say right now could make anything okay. But it was better than this... this charade. Not knowing a fucking thing either way, and living with this false, confusing hope that things might turn out alright. He needed to know.

He took a deep breath.

 

*

 

It was the hardest thing Nicky had ever had to say.

“I... I like you a lot. Like that.”

In the moment that followed, Mark looked like he was about to cry, laugh, and throw up, all at the same time. Instead, he just blinked, swallowed, and let out this pitifully silent gasp that made Nicky’s heart flutter. He looked up, something shining in his eyes. Nicky couldn’t look away.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Mark whispered, his hand fluttering uncertainly on Nicky’s wrist for a second before staying where it was. “Don’t worry.”

“How do you feel about me?” Nicky demanded. Now was the time to find out. He couldn’t stand living on this edge for another moment, not knowing either way. He wanted Mark to kick him out, call him a few choice names and send him back to his wife. He wanted Mark to laugh, to ask him how he could ever think that Mark, of all people, might feel the same about fucked up little him. But the thought that Mark might say that he liked him too, in any small way, made his heart constrict in on itself in the most delicious way imaginable, and that was just as horrible.

He took a deep breath.

 

*

 

It was the hardest thing Mark ever had to say.

“I like you too. Like that.” Mark said softly, forcing himself to keep eye contact with Nicky and not look down to find out if his heart was actually beating out of his chest. Nicky looked shocked, but whether it was a good shock or a bad shock was completely unascertainable. Painfully blue eyes locked with his, so intense they were scary, and suddenly he couldn’t go back. There was no back to go to. They were on a one way track into the chasm and there were no brakes. The world had crumbled behind him, and the only thing that lay ahead was Nicky’s lips, just there.

 

*

 

The kiss was so incredibly soft it eradicated any thoughts of bolting that Nicky might have entertained. He felt he was falling into Mark, into the hot, sweet scent of his breath, and the delicate embrace of his red, full lips. Eyes closing against the weight of Mark’s hand around his wrist, he felt something collapse inside himself. Something had finally snapped, and now there was no fixing it. Mark had taken it away, and, rather than feel outraged, there was just this feeling of complete and total surrender; that, no matter what, it wasn’t his problem any more. Nothing could be more right than this, and nothing could possibly make him feel any less wonderful than he did right here, in this moment.

His free hand wound itself slowly around Mark’s neck, feeling tiny hairs wisp over his fingers, and a soft, wet tongue meet his. Mark made a faint noise in his throat, and Nicky had to echo it, or go completely mad from the terrified contentment lighting up his whole being. The soft weight of a hand landed on his thigh, burning through his jeans like a brand and, when he tilted his head further, it lifted to cup his cheek, guiding Nicky into something terrifying and wonderful he didn’t have name for.

“Oh.” He whispered as Mark pulled away, feeling his chest ache under the slow gasps Mark was mirroring. Damp lips clung to his, tickling him and making him want to take them again, the slow look into Mark’s eyes causing him to gasp steadily, his heart thrumming in his throat.

“Mark.” He whispered, loving the delicious roll of the younger boy’s name on his tongue.

“Shit.” Mark responded, his chest rising and falling with deep gasping breaths. “Nicky.” He murmured, his cheeks flushing pink.

Nicky giggled.

 

*

 

Mark had to laugh; the situation was just so completely absurd. Nicky’s giggle acted as a switch, flicking open the floodgates effortlessly until they were laid on the couch, gasping with laughter and Mark trying to decide whether holding each other would be a good idea. In the end, Mark had to put his hand on Nicky’s back, there was no way he could resist just touching him again, and Nicky looked up with tears of laughter leaking out of his eyes.

“Ahhh shit.” Nicky half laughed and half sighed, straightening up until Mark’s hand was trapped behind his back, and then leant against it, reclining against the chair in way that was just so completely relaxed it was perfect. Leaning down, Mark pressed their lips together again, chuckling into Nicky’s mouth when his sides were tickled briefly and long fingers clenched in his hair, tugging slowly. Sighing happily, he let himself fall into the kiss, pulling away only when Nicky’s laughter filled his mouth again.

“Mmm...” Nicky murmured, heavy eyes fixed on Mark. “I probably shouldn’t have done that. Should I?”

“You’re married.” Mark replied dutifully. He should feel sorry for Nicky’s wife, for destroying the sanctity of marriage or whatever it was, but found himself unable to care. Nicky kissed him again, a soft tongue flicking mischievously over his mouth.

“I know but I... is it totally wrong and morally unacceptable that I don’t really care anymore?” Nicky’s eyes stared up into Mark’s. “I love her, shit, I know I do. I’d die for her. But I don’t feel... that way anymore. There’s no spark, no romance or....” He shrugged. “You know what I mean. That feeling. But with you, I...” He trailed off, reaching up to cup Mark’s cheek, the gentle touch sending waves of contentment over Mark’s skin. “I like you. Like I used to like her. But it’s different.”

Mark nodded, not really understanding, but glad that Nicky wasn’t angry at him anymore. Nicky’s hand trailed down his throat, a thumb brushing his Adam’s apple.

 

*

 

Nicky was mesmerised by the way Mark swallowed. Stubble scratched his thumb, a thick Adam’s apple bobbing under it. It had never felt like that with Georgina, there was no buzz when he touched her skin and, in recent years, the burn of eyes on his face only made him wonder whether he’d forgotten to put the bins out. The fact that he could admit it to himself, finally, was something of relief. Suddenly, he felt tonnes lighter. The moment he stepped out of the house it would return, he knew that. The guilt would set in. But right now, there was nothing except Mark’s eyes, and Mark’s skin, and Mark’s lips.

 

*

 

Lying with Nicky’s head rested against his chest, Mark wondered if anything could feel more right than this. Oh, of course, there were all kinds of things wrong with this situation, too many to name, but they were completely negated by the feeling of pure _rightness_ that washed over him when Nicky twisted his head to look at him, slim fingers brushing over the cotton at the hem of his shirt. They had lain here for more than half an hour after the laughter had died down, not talking or moving. There was a sense of urgency about this slow rest, because Nicky had to go home in less than two hours, he had said so, and in that time Mark wanted absolutely everything. Especially this.

He ran his fingers through Nicky’s hair, feeling small strands slip through his fingers like silk, and noted that Nicky was a ginger. Beneath all the bleach there were tiny orange roots that smelt like expensive shampoo and sweat when Mark lifted a few strands to his nose. Nicky laughed at that, and looked at him tenderly, his pout twisted into a smirk.

Eventually, though, Mark had to stretch under Nicky’s weight, shifting the smaller man slightly off balance. Nicky rolled with it, turning into his side and pressing his cheek into Mark’s arm.

“Mark?”

“Yeah?” Mark yawned.

“I need to go home soon.”

“Yeah.” Mark mumbled, his heart sinking to his toes. “I know.”

“But I could come back Saturday.”

Mark tried to look nonchalant, but failed miserably. Nicky chuckled, pecking his shoulder.

“I’ll come back on Saturday.”

Three days away! God give him strength... “Okay.” Mark replied. “When?”

There was a pause, and then: “Eleven. Gina’s going shopping in the morning, but I promised I’d do some chores.” Nicky looked up. “I want to talk more. And... and maybe do other things. I don’t know. But I need to figure it out in my head and so... so you could help me, right?”

The thought of doing _other things_ sent Mark’s blood thrilling over various minor nerves, and some especially major ones. But, with a conscious effort, he reminded himself to slow down. Nicky was still confused and, on top of that, he was married. This was definitely not the time to be rushing into things. But still, the thought of _other things_ was...

“I... I need to go slow.” Nicky said. “This isn’t like that other guy. I need to... to figure things out and understand what I’m doing here.” He looked up, emotions swirling visibly amongst the blue of his eyes. “I’m sorry. You probably want...”

A spike of red hot guilt ran straight through Mark’s belly.

“Anything you want.” He replied, honesty saturating every syllable.


	7. Me Time

“Nicky, love! I’m home!”

Rumpling his hair quickly with his hands, Nicky buried his face in the pillow, breathing wetly into the mask of cotton to make himself flush. He curled himself into a ball and parted his lips slightly, forcing his eyes into slits.

“Oh, baby...” Georgina whispered, sidling through the doorway and running a small feminine hand through his hair. She felt his forehead and he moaned softly in response, pushing sleepily into the touch.

“Gina...” He mumbled, trying to make his mind as sluggish as the rest of him. But it was too busy racing along at the speed of light, every perfect moment of that afternoon ricocheting through his memory like a bullet. “Ow.” He muttered, her touch unwelcome on his skin for the first time in nine years. He was betraying her. He should be fucking shot. He looked up, feeling suddenly dizzy.

“Are you feeling better, sweetheart?” She whispered, probably so she didn’t aggravate the headache he apparently had. He murmured something random and looked up.

“A little bit.” He muttered. “I was just going to... get up... and...” He attempted to heave himself onto his arm, collapsing again when he forced all his weight onto it, making himself tremble. “...and make you dinner.” He finished on a yawn, giving her a despairing glance as he did. “Sorry.” He breathed, curling up again. “I think I’ll be okay by tomorrow. I feel... a little better...”

“Okay.” Soft lips caressed his forehead. “You see how you feel, alright?”

He’d be miraculously recovered by tomorrow morning, he knew that. It would be the sleep, maybe, or those vitamins the doctor had prescribed would finally kick in. Mostly, it was the fear of getting fired and the knowledge that he had to get back to work eventually anyway, as nice as this sick break was. There was no use fucking around with this anymore. And anyway, the problem was gone, wasn’t it? It had given way to much bigger problems. But the one that had caused him to lie in bed moaning and feeling properly sorry for himself for three days? Magically gone.

She left the room, telling him she’d bring his dinner up. He heard her go down the stairs, out of earshot, and giggled to himself, feeling his face flush with something he hadn’t felt since he was teenager. Hot stabs of guilt and shame were spiking through his gut, and yet he couldn’t help but feel elated remembering the way Mark had kissed him as he’d left the house, and the way he’d tugged Mark’s body against his, feeling warm, soft flesh underneath all those annoying clothes. Even now, he could feel large, strong hands holding his jaw, pulling his mouth onto Mark’s tongue, cupping his neck and just fucking _taking_ him. Nicky had seen in Mark’s eyes that he couldn’t help it, no matter how much he’d been trying to take it slow for Nicky’s sake. And that more than anything had made him want Mark more. It was as if he couldn’t keep his hands off Nicky. It was so long since someone had felt that way about him. It was intoxicating.

He groaned into the pillow, feeling himself harden, and giggled again, tears pricking at his eyes when he heard Gina pottering about the kitchen. It was so wrong to be doing this, in so many ways. He was hurting the person he loved the most in the whole world, putting at jeopardy this wonderful life they had together, and risking a future that could be completely perfect if Nicky could just get over this stupid thing and stop fucking up. He could be straight, and he could be faithful, and he wanted to be. For Georgina.

But.

Mark...

 

*

 

“Oh my god, it’s emerged!” Kian gasped. Mark looked up to see them bouncing through the door, full of sunshine and carrying shopping bags. He grinned at them, and waved, knowing the change was remarkable, but unable to help the way he was feeling. He felt fantastic!

“Hi lads!” He chuckled. “Get me anything?”

“No.” Shane retorted, dropping a plastic bag with some toilet rolls and a tube of toothpaste in it onto Mark’s lap. “But you can have this, though. Merry Christmas.”

“It’s October.”

“Well it’s such a good gift I thought you should get it early.”

Mark rolled his eyes, tossing the bag so that it landed fairly close to the bathroom door. One of them would get sick of it being there eventually and put it away. It just wouldn’t be him.

“I’m making coffee!” Kian yelled from the kitchen. “Who wants one?”

“Me!” Shane and Mark cried in unison, turning to grin at each other, and sticking their tongues out in the process.

“So.” Shane said quietly, once the sound of the boiling kettle well and truly drowned out their conversation from Kian. “Want to explain to me why you’re so cheerful all of a sudden?”

Mark waved his hand noncommittally, his smile still fixed to his face. “Ah, you know. Had some ‘me’ time. Got some work done.”

“Had some ‘me’ time?” Shane replied, picking up something from the floor. “Really? Because last time I checked, this didn’t belong to any of us, and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t here when I left.” He held up the thing he had picked up, and Mark gulped. Nicky’s jacket! Oh... shit.

“So who did you spend the time with, then?” Shane smirked. “Got a pervy little affair happening we don’t know about?” He winked. “It’s pretty crumpled. Couldn’t keep your hands off him, I’m guessing.” The jacket was shaken in Mark’s face, and he batted it away, trying to resist the urge to snatch it from Shane’s hands and breathe in whatever was left of Nicky’s scent. “So who is it?”

“No-one Shane. Don’t be stupid.” His voice was trembling. And his face was hot. And Shane was still smirking at him. “Nicky must’ve left it here. He dropped over for a DVD.”

“Ohhhh... so that’s why you’re blushing!” Shane cackled, reminding Mark scarily of a meddling old woman. “Nicky. Oooooh...” Mark tried desperately not to bury his face in his hands out of embarrassment. “Give it up, mate. He’s straight, and married. Not casting aspersions on you, but you can’t turn him.”

“I wasn’t trying to!” Mark protested. “He’s just a nice bloke. I don’t feel anything for him! And even if I did...” Shane rolled his eyes, but Mark pushed forward regardless. “Even if I did, do you really think I would even try? I’ve got enough trouble having relationships with gay blokes, so why would I make life harder for myself? Seriously, I know I’m not bloody... Brad Pitt or something, and it’s hard enough picking up a bloke at a bar for me, alright, let alone going after someone _completely_ unattainable. I’m not the world’s hottest slag, not like you. And also, I’m sorry Shane, but I’m allowed to have a friend outside of you.”

He realised he’d been yelling when Kian appeared at the door, two mugs balanced in his hands, his mouth gaping open in surprise. Mark felt himself blush, and looked away from Shane, who was staring at him in shock, his fingers halfway to his mouth.

“Uh... Mark...” Shane swallowed. “I didn’t mean... I mean...”

Mark shook his head, shame finally flooding in through the haze of indignation. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

“I... well...” Shane looked like he was about to pursue it, but then moved away, patting Mark on the shoulder as he went. “Don’t worry about it.” He said, and then disappeared into the hall, the bedroom door shutting behind him.

“Shane! I didn’t mean...” Mark called out, pausing when Kian shook his head meaningfully at him.

“Best leave it, mate.” He said, putting the coffee down on the table in front of Mark and lifting his own to his lips. Confusion getting the best of him, Mark wasn’t sure what to say for a few moments. He hadn’t said something that bad, surely? Oh, he’d called Shane a slag, sure, but Shane had always flaunted that particular aspect of his personality. And they all had outside friends, so that couldn’t be it. He was completely baffled.

“What did I say?” He asked finally, unable to take Kian’s silence any more. “Kian?”

Kian sighed, putting down the mug and picking up a packet of chocolate biscuits out of one of the shopping bags that had been dropped on the floor. “Look, I don’t know exactly. Shane’s been really sensitive lately, and he’s not taking things like he normally does. He said something about relationships, I don’t know.” Kian shrugged, looking as mystified as Mark felt. “About not slagging around. I don’t understand it, but there you go.”

“So... what? Shane wants a meaningful relationship?” Well, this was certainly a bizarre turn of events.

“Hey, that’s all I know.” Raising his hands in defeat, Kian hoisted himself off the couch, picking up his half-full coffee as he went. “Like I say, he’s just been weird.”

Mark nodded, and then a thought occurred to him. “Hey... why were you looking so surprised then? When I got... y’know... shouty.”

“Because you, princess, don’t usually say boo to a goose. And since when have you been worried about not picking up? You’re just as much a slut as Shane.”

“Yeah, but...” Mark felt uncomfortable suddenly, unable to express exactly how he felt without sounding like a girl. “But. But, like, they’re all drunk and... they’re slags too. So it doesn’t really matter how I look, or what kind of person I am. It’s just sex. It isn’t... they’d do the same thing with absolutely anyone that walked past, so long as there was a cock involved. And I just wonder if...”

“If you’re a pretty face?” Kian interrupted, leaning against the kitchen door frame, his coffee against his chest. Mark shrugged, not quite sure if that was how he put it. “If you’re a handsome, lovely boy, or if you’re just an available arse?”

“Something like that.”

Kian sighed, putting his coffee on the counter in the kitchen and sitting back down next to Mark, his arm thrown over the back of the couch. “Marky... look, I don’t know what’s going on with you lately, but you know if you want to talk about it, then just... let her rip. I’m not saying I’ll have the answers, but....” He slapped Mark’s shoulder awkwardly. “Uh... I’m here for you and stuff.” He was almost blushing, and Mark turned to smile, not knowing what other reaction he was supposed to give. “Oh and uh, you’re very nice and... and cute and stuff. Y’know. If you want my honest opinion.” He winked, back to his usual self. “I’d shag ya!”

“Thanks Ki. Means a lot.” Mark laughed, shoving him lightly. “Because I know you’ve got such high standards.”

“Well, when you’re the best...” Kian pretended to dust his fingernails. “Look, I’ve got to clean the mould out of the bottom of that bloody shower. Why don’t you go talk to Shane or something? Cheer the dozy bastard up. Maybe you’re in the same situation, I don’t know. But I’ve got to have a meaningless shag before I turn into a girl.”

“Well, you know rubber gloves are very fetching on you.” Mark joked. Kian gave him the finger.

 

*

 

“Nicky, mate. Nicky!” Nicky jumped at the long, shrill whistle that sounded directly in his ear. Heart hammering in surprise, he spun to face the source of the noise, clutching his chest when he recognised the face smiling expectantly back at him.

“Shit, Bryan! Don’t fucking do that to me!”

“What, try to talk to you for twenty minutes while you stare at the wall? Poke you repeatedly in the arm and get completely no reaction?” He grabbed Nicky’s arm, squeezing it. “Does that hurt? Because I wouldn’t be that surprised if you had a bruise from it.”

“Shut up, twat.” Nicky shoved him away playfully, then turned back to his computer. “I’m working.”

“Is that what they’re calling it? I always thought it was called ‘staring into space’. But maybe Kerry’s just been a bad influence on me.”

Nicky rolled his eyes, trying to block Bryan out. He was not in the mood.

It was a couple of minutes before Bryan realised he wasn’t welcome and, ending his rambling story with a peeved grunt, did an about-face and wandered away again. Nicky didn’t watch him go. He was too busy working.

Jesus fucking Christ had the guilt ever set in since yesterday. Since last night, really. The dinner in bed, a nice treat for the invalid, had made him seriously consider injuring himself, just to get himself back for what he’d done to Georgina. Oh, of course she didn’t _know_ , but that was beside the point, wasn’t it? _He_ knew.

Spinning slowly in his chair, he picked up a half-full mug of tepid tea from the rear of his cubicle, continuing to idly spin until he was facing his computer again. It stared back at him, with a creepily knowing glare, and he hurriedly pressed the off button on the monitor, aware that this was definitely one of the first signs of madness. Not _the_ first, obviously. The first sign was molesting someone that was particularly male and definitely not your wife. But, then, Nicky had always considered himself just slightly on the wrong side of sane.

Shit, fuck, and bollocks, he was so completely fucked.

Resting his head on the desk for a moment, he savoured the cool, tangible feeling of wood under his cheek, his sigh painting it with momentary fog. Georgina had been amazing last night, had cuddled him while he’d been sick, not asking anything else, even though he knew that last night was the last time this month they’d have the slightest hope in hell of conceiving a baby. Their baby. And god, didn’t that put a stake through Nicky’s heart. How was he supposed to explain to his son or daughter that he was, in fact, fucking around with the neighbourhood… whatever Mark was. Not that it really mattered what Mark did for a living – though the fact that Nicky didn’t actually know was instantly jarring – the fact was, he was a man. A very attractive, friendly man, yes, but you couldn’t exactly ignore the ever-present penis-factor. Oh yeah, and the fact that someone else – who was definitely not Mark - was the baby’s mother.

But he was way ahead of himself. There wasn’t even any guarantee that he and Georgina _could_ conceive. Though Georgina had talked about adoption a lot lately. He wasn’t sure telling them he had a gay lover would help them in the adoption process. They might have a feeling he was a bit unfit to be a parent.

He was unfit to be a human being, really.

So what the fuck was he doing, messing about like this? Kissing some boy… man… (jesus, Nicky didn’t even know how old Mark actually was) that he barely knew? He was being fucking stupid, that’s what he was doing. He was letting that honey-sweet taste and those ocean-blue eyes and those sinful, biteable lips cloud his judgement. And those incredibly warm hugs Mark gave. And the way, when Mark laughed, Nicky’s entire body seemed to relax into the perfect comfort of the moment. Or the way, when Mark looked at him with that gaze, that one that said ‘everything’s going to be alright, I’ll take care of you’, Nicky didn’t even hesitate in believing him.

But Mark wasn’t here, and everything was _not_ going to be alright. That was the honest fucking truth. He’d fucked up royally, and there was a huge part of him that was telling him to just bloody stop it. Stop being so stupid, put this whole thing behind him and look towards his future. With Georgina

But there was another niggling, insistent part of him. One that was spreading and growing, encasing the other part of him and disguising it, making him forget about it and look toward this new part of his life, another future that he could have, one that would make him an absolute bastard but drew him like a magnet.

Because Mark’s lips really were utterly biteable.


	8. Talk

Saturday managed to come around fairly uneventfully. With reasonable restraint, Mark had managed not to use every available opportunity to walk past Nicky’s house, had gone to every class on time, and had managed get a fair amount of his latest assignment done. It had been like pulling teeth, and had bored him almost literally to tears, but he had gotten it done reasonably quickly. Sure, his essay didn’t actually have an argument yet, but he’d figure that out later.

But that didn’t matter at all now, not when Nicky was standing on his doorstep, looking up at him with a mixture of bashfulness, curiosity, and hunger. Mark smiled at him, and pulled open the door. Nicky smiled back unsteadily.

“Hiya.”

“Hey.” Nicky replied softly. “How you doing?”

“Good, yeah.” Mark replied, following Nicky through into the lounge room and gesturing for him to sit down. “Shane and Kian are out. Grocery shopping. I managed to weasel my way out of it. Again.” Nicky stared up at him, the sheer intensity of it making Mark feel slightly uncomfortable, curiosity prickling up his spine. “So, do you want anything? Like… a sandwich or a glass of water or anything?”

“No.” Nicky replied, in that husky breathless voice that made Mark go weak at the knees. “I’m okay.”

“Cool.” Mark replied awkwardly. He let his legs carry him to the couch and sat down heavily. “Right. Ehm. So, you wanted to talk, right?”

“Yeah.” Nicky nodded, and for the first time Mark didn’t resist the urge to put his arm around Nicky’s slim shoulders. Nicky’s body froze for a moment, and then it relaxed somewhat, leaning into Mark’s touch. They smiled at each other. Sort of. Nicky’s lips kind of trembled. His eyes were clouded.

 

*

 

“Right. So.” Nicky said finally, aware that he’d been staring into space for the better part of five minutes. Mark hadn’t moved in that time, but the arm around Nicky’s shoulders had grown steadily more rigid, until it was like an awkward wooden plank, pressing down on Nicky’s shoulders. Mark was chewing his lip slowly, his eyes skating about the room uneasily, but always falling back onto Nicky. Underneath his teeth, his lips were becoming even more red, but now was not the time to kiss them, no matter how much Nicky wanted to. Now was the time for talk.

“So.” Nicky said, surprised by the tone in his own voice. It was like an earthen pit, hollow and empty, the walls slowly crumbling. “Uh… so… what do you do then?”

Mark looked surprised, so much so that the rigidity of his arm lessened suddenly, draping around Nicky’s shoulder’s like a ribbon. Nicky supposed Mark had thought they would be talking about sex. Or their relationship, such as it was. But Nicky had realised, more vitally than any of that, that he didn’t know a single thing about Mark, other than that it was wrong wrong wrong to fancy the pants off him, even if he did have the softest skin Nicky had ever seen. Or touched. God.

“Huh?” Mark said. Nicky quashed the urge to kiss those deftly colouring cheeks.

“Ehm… for a living. What do you do?”

“Oh. I’m a student.” Mark nodded slowly. “Um… I’m doing a teaching degree. History mainly, and religion.” He looked up at Nicky under long eyelashes, as if seeking his approval. “And I sort of do casual work at the supermarket. It’s… good.”

Nicky nodded, thinking that sounded perfect. Not that anything about Mark didn’t sound perfect… Shit, he had to start approaching this with a rational head.

“So you want to teach then?” Mark nodded. “Secondary or primary?”

“Secondary, I think. I dunno. I just think it’d be cool, y’know, to know something and then to help other people learn it too. Like… I like little kids well enough… but secondary would be great. You know, you’re helping them get ready to go out into the world. I think I’d really like that.”

Nicky nodded. “So… why religion and history?”

“I was good at them in school.” Mark shrugged. “They’re sort of the same thing, when you think about it. Like, how culture and beliefs have shaped people. Whole civilisations. Us. And why people are the way they are now.” Mark shrugged again, his free hand fidgeting in his lap. “It’s really interesting.”

“It sounds it.” Nicky replied, thinking that it did, actually, the way Mark told it. He’d never been great at either class, never had any interest. But the way Mark talked about it made it seem as though there was something much more fundamental that he’d missed. That the tentative passion in his voice was enough to make you want to endure teen angst and bathroom passes. Mark smiled hesitantly, looking at Nicky as though he was searching for some kind of validation.

“I really like it.” His face was almost red, the pink flush colouring high in his cheekbones. Nicky reached out to touch, feeling heat beneath that soft skin, and Mark’s smile broadened into a full-blown grin, a soft bashfulness filling his eyes. “So… erm… how bout you?”

Nicky shrugged. “I work at the bank offices downtown. I’m not an actual banker.” He added hastily, when Mark’s eyes lit up with interest. “Didn’t go to school enough for that. I’ve done a few management courses though, and I’m sort of hoping to move up enough to increase my salary a bit. Seeing as the bloke above me is retiring. You know, inching up one step at a time.”

“Yeah.” Mark looked purely fascinated, and Nicky continued on, rambling about his job prospects, and asking Mark a few things about uni and work. It was easy conversation, Nicky was surprised to note, every word flowing between them. They actually managed to finish each other’s sentences a couple of times, and by the time Mark got up to go to the loo, Nicky had been comfortable enough to exchange a few chaste kisses, the lust coming secondary to the friendliness of the situation. Why, Nicky thought, couldn’t it be like this? The two of them just being friends; talking, laughing, hugging and kissing in a purely platonic and heterosexual way?

Except Mark wasn’t heterosexual. And he didn’t think of Nicky in a platonic way. And Nicky couldn’t bring himself to think that way about Mark either.

 

*

 

Shaking his hands to dry them as he returned from the toilet, Mark stopped in the doorway for a moment to look at Nicky. Well, the back of his head, anyway. His shoulders were hunched slightly against the couch, and there was definite conflict written in the set of his neck, the movement of his hand over his face. For the first time that day it occurred to Mark, without any semblance of doubt, that Nicky was, in fact, married. At that thought, he couldn’t quite push away the swell of guilt rising in his stomach. Georgina had seemed a genuinely nice person, and here Mark was, kissing her husband. Getting to know him on a level that only she should. He was the other man, and he didn’t like that at all.

But Nicky’s hair was just so… pettable. And his eyes were this beautiful sea-blue that Mark wanted to get lost in, no matter how girly that sounded. And best of all, his laugh made Mark think of home. Mark may have been the other man, possibly just an available fuck (no matter what Kian said), but Nicky was still the most exquisite person he’d ever met.

“You okay?”

Nicky looked up with a start, his hunched shoulders straightening slightly. Mark smiled, hoping it was comforting, but Nicky still looked miserable.

“Yeah. No.” Nicky shrugged. “Ehm… I just… Georgina, y’know? I shouldn’t be here. It’d kill her if she found out. I don’t want to hurt her like that.”

Mark nodded, frowning. “Do you want to go home?” He forced out.

“No.” Nicky shook his head. “It sounds crazy, but I don’t. This is the only place I can really be myself, y’know? And Jesus, that came out wrong, because I think more of you than that. I don’t just come here because you’re gay. I just… need to be myself for awhile.” He rested his chin in his hands. “But I hate myself for what I’m doing to her.”

“Well… she doesn’t know, right?” That sounded weak, even to his own ears. That wasn’t the point.

“That’s not the point.” Nicky sighed. “I don’t know. Look… can we just forget about it? And talk a bit more?”

“Sure.” Mark sat carefully, his arm fluttering for a moment before returning to its previous position around Nicky’s shoulders. Nicky shifted closer, Mark’s touch apparently not unwelcome. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I want to find out more about you. Because I don’t know anything. And I’d like to know, if this is going to work.”

Going to work? Jesus, Nicky was thinking that far ahead! To his surprise, rather than making an instant dash for it like he had every other time a relationship had entered this territory, Mark actually found himself tightening his hold on Nicky’s shoulders. His heart was almost bursting, it was pounding so hard against his chest, and he placed a kiss on Nicky’s forehead, unable to stop himself. Nicky smiled and kissed him back, their tongues entwining slowly before Nicky went on the offensive and slipped his tongue into Mark’s mouth, tracing the ridged roof and tickling. Not one to be submissive, Mark pushed back, sucking slowly on Nicky’s tongue, beginning to explore.

“God.” Nicky sighed when they finally parted, flushed and panting. He looked slightly wild-eyed, and Mark felt his cock jump, crossing his legs when he realised. Now was not the time for that; Nicky needed to talk. But the scorching stare Nicky gave him was enough to making him aware of the fact that Nicky had noticed, and was similarly inclined.

“So.” Nicky crossed his own legs, making Mark snicker inwardly. “Ehm… you’re, what? Twenty-two?”

“Twenty-three.” Mark corrected. “And you?”

“Twenty-five.” Nicky replied. “Ehm… erm… what’s your favourite colour?”

“Purple.” Mark replied, watching Nicky’s legs cross tighter. That must be uncomfortable. Nicky crossed his arms over his chest. Electricity was crackling between them, it was undeniable, and Mark shifted even closer, his lips almost brushing Nicky’s cheek. “How about you?”

“Blue.” Nicky replied hoarsely, and Mark wasn’t all that surprised when he was suddenly pounced on, Nicky’s weight forcing him back, his back colliding with the arm of the couch. Legs tangled with his, Nicky’s knee coming up to force into his groin, and Mark lifted his own, a shudder jolting through him when he felt Nicky’s cock hard against his thigh. A soft whimper floated from Nicky’s throat, and Mark had to stop himself from coming right there. Nicky’s lips latched to his neck.

“Oh Jesus.” Mark said, completely stunned when Nicky began to wrench at his shirt. So Mark began to wrench back, tangling his hands in soft cotton and yanking the shirt over Nicky’s head, hissing appreciatively when he caught sight of Nicky’s slim, slightly hairy chest, his mouth latching to a nipple completely by instinct. Long fingers twisted in his hair, and the soft curses from above him sent heat swelling around his groin.

 

*

 

Large strong hands were trailing Nicky’s waistband in the few moments he was using to catch his breath, and he pushed into them, finally managing to get Mark’s shirt off, groaning when it meant that Mark had to break free from his nipple. They collapsed back together, Nicky already working at getting Mark’s trousers open, while Mark had made short work of Nicky’s belt and was trying to get the zip undone. It was awkward, and embarrassing, but god, Nicky thought, was it ever fucking fantastic.

Mark finally managed to get his jeans undone with a laugh, and Nicky smirked back, raking his fingers down Mark’s chest. There was a thick dusting of hair on Mark’s chest, trailing down over his belly button, and Nicky dipped his head to tangle his tongue in it, hearing a surprised grunt from above. He continued moving down, reaching Mark’s jeans before too long, and sucking at Mark’s deliciously angular hip while he unbuttoned them. He moved up to attack Mark’s lips again while the jeans were shimmied out of, starkly aware that being far too low when Mark finally got naked might lead him into doing something that he wasn’t sure he was quite ready for. But Mark grinned at him and rolled them over and tugged Nicky’s jeans off too.

“Jesus.” Mark groaned, looking down suddenly, and Nicky remembered with a smirk that he hadn’t put any boxers on. But that was far from an issue, especially when Mark slid deftly down Nicky’s body and inhaled his cock, his full lips mouthing all the way down to the root.

“Oh god…” Nicky heard himself say faintly, but was too involved in the sudden, inescapable feeling of Mark’s throat contracting around him to really care what he was saying. Although a muffled voice in the back of his brain did alert him to the fact that he was swearing very loudly, and that Mark was laughing. Not that Nicky needed a voice to tell him that, he could feel it only too well in the thick vibrations running up and down his shaft while he bucked hard into Mark’s mouth, and wondered faintly just how Georgina had never managed to get this good at it.

Not that it really mattered. Not when Mark’s mouth slid slowly up again, his tongue trailing fire up the underneath of Nicky’s cock, and then plunged down, wringing more loud curses from Nicky’s mouth. There was a mischievous glint in Mark’s eyes, sparkling over a look of such complete and utter want that Nicky wanted to come right there. Especially when Mark’s fingertips began to slowly stroke Nicky’s balls.

 

*

 

Mark giggled to himself, feeling his own erection hard and needy against the seat of the couch, his mouth stretched tight by the thick length of Nicky’s cock. It tasted like heaven, the constant stream of swearing coming from above him making it even better. If there was one thing Mark knew how to do well, it was this, and he shut his eyes, feeling suddenly peaceful. Hearing Nicky’s breathing become even more laboured, he opened his eyes to see Nicky looking down at him, his mouth hanging slackly, lips red and swollen. Reaching up, Mark slid his hand over the underneath of Nicky’s cock and down, trailing his fingers over and under Nicky’s balls, feeling the man above him tense and let out a long groan.

And then Nicky came.

It was hot, and slick, and delicious, and Mark considered swallowing for the first time in his life before remembering himself and pulling off, spitting into a tissue. Nicky was staring blankly at the ceiling when Mark looked back, and Mark just had to lean over to kiss him, sliding his tongue between Nicky’s lips, feeling his own cock hard against Nicky’s thigh and pressing down harder, trying to relieve some of the pressure.

Nicky made a noise that wasn’t quite a groan and wasn’t quite a whimper. Mark kissed it away.

“God, you’re fantastic.”

Mark felt himself begin to blush.

 

*

 

Through a foggy haze in his mind, Nicky was dimly aware that Mark was blushing, and reached up until he could touch Mark’s cheeks. There was a small, pleased smile on Mark’s lips, his face hot under Nicky’s hands. His eyes were shining with something that could have been… contentment? Nicky wasn’t sure, but whatever it was, it had Mark almost as hard as Nicky had been, his cock pressing insistently against Nicky’s thigh. It was starkly terrifying, enough to make Nicky’s breath catch in his throat. But Mark was looking down encouragingly, no expectation in his eyes. Just pure want and affection. Nicky looked back.

“Do you want me to… erm…”

“Oh… you don’t have to.” Mark blushed, with a voice that meant that Nicky did have to, actually, because Mark was okay with him not doing it, and that was just so perfect.

“Yeah. I do.” Nicky smiled, catching Mark’s shy gaze. “Just… let me go slow, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Mark breathed, ducking his head to slowly kiss Nicky, his tongue slipping between his parted lips, Nicky’s stomach doing a backward somersault at the feeling. Mark was trembling slightly, his arousal obvious, but when Nicky reached down to touch him, he pulled back.

“You’re sure?”

Nicky nodded, pushing his hand into Mark’s boxer shorts, fingers tentatively brushing over coarse hair and then downwards, jerking when they came in contact with Mark’s hard, hot length, slick fluid catching already on his fingers as he began to trail them up and down, hearing Mark whimper. Taking pity, and forcing back his own apprehension, he tightened the grip, trying to do what he did to himself. Which was really hard to do backwards.

 

*

 

Oh god, oh god, oh Nicky… oh god, Nicky Nicky Nicky…!

 

*

 

It couldn’t have been the best hand job in the whole world, considering his apprehension and inexperience, but when Mark called his name, he didn’t think it mattered in the slightest. Hot, slick fluid gushed over his hand, but he didn’t move it, closing his eyes when full, soft lips nuzzled deliriously at his neck, soft moans of his name interspersed with whimpering gasps. He kissed Mark’s forehead.

“I love… that.” Mark whispered, sounding as though he’d caught himself halfway through the sentence. Nicky let it go. He didn’t really mind if Mark loved… that. He had a feeling he was pretty much the same, underneath a thousand pints of thick, bubbling denial.

But who gave a shit, really? Not him, not when Mark was collapsed on him like that, his hands gripping Nicky’s arm and waist gently, chest heaving hard against Nicky’s. Their hands entwined, and Nicky looked down to see a big smile was being directed at him. He grinned back.

“That was fantastic.” Mark mumbled, shutting his eyes. Nicky nodded.

“Yeah.” He heard himself say. “Oh god, yeah.”


	9. Got Lost

Mark smiled when he heard the soft, husky voice echoing down the phone line.

“Hi.” It said. He grinned to himself.

“Hello.” He curled his legs under him on the couch, looking around to make sure Shane and Kian weren’t in the vicinity. They weren’t – were in the bedroom watching TV. “How are you?”

“Good.” He could practically hear Nicky’s smile. “And you?”

“Fine.” Mark replied teasingly. “Can I enquire as to the nature of your call?”

“Thought you might like to go out tonight. You and Shane and Kian. Me and Bryan are going to the pub and he said to ask you lot along.”

Mark’s heart sank a little. Oh. Well fine, that was fair enough. Nicky didn’t want to compromise himself or something, even though all Mark had been able to think about for the past few weeks was getting some alone time with Nicky. Sure, it had happened a few times, but not nearly as much as he would’ve liked.

And it wasn’t even about the sex. Because, as amazing as the sex was, Mark was realising more and more just how much he genuinely liked Nicky. He was funny, cheeky, clever, and an amazingly good friend. Even without all the sex, Mark was sure they would’ve gotten on well in a platonic situation, just as friends. He didn’t trust easily, but with Nicky… it was like they’d known each other all their lives… like they understood each other.

Except for, of course, that necessary distance between them. The one that appeared whenever they started getting too close.

The one that reminded Mark that he couldn’t have Nicky. Not really. Not ever.

But god, he wanted.

 

*

 

Nicky heard the downcast little sigh, and smiled sadly to himself, shifting the phone against his ear.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Mark asked, his voice almost heartbreakingly stoic.

“For… you know what.” Nicky replied, glancing around in case Georgina had suddenly decided to appear out of nowhere. She hadn’t – his paranoia was getting to him. She was still at the shops. “You know I’d love to come over and spend time with just you.”

“Really?” Mark said, and Nicky had to laugh at the hopeful tone there, a desperate affection building in his heart and frightening the hell out of him.

“Really.” Nicky confirmed. “But we look suspicious already and…” He swallowed, ears pricking up at the tiniest little noises. It was just the birds outside, for fuck’s sake. “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay.” Mark sighed, but Nicky heard the gentleness in it, and smiled. “Just a second…” There was a brief silence, and then Nicky heard Mark’s muffled voice cry out, “do you twats wanna go out tonight?!” There was a muted reply and Mark laughed, his voice clear again. “They’d love to.”

“Great.” Nicky replied, still laughing at Mark’s friendly cry, and the sudden activity he could on the other end of the line. “About eight? Meet you out the front of McDonalds.”

“Cool.”

“Okay then.” Nicky smiled. “And uh… I’ll see you then.”

“Okay.” There was a momentary pause, then Mark spoke hesitantly. “Can’t wait.”

Nicky glanced around, his paranoia getting to him again, and then turned back to the phone, smiling. “Me neither. I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay. Bye.” Mark replied, then there was a click and the dial tone kicked in. Nicky put down the phone, touched his blushing cheeks, and smiled.

 

*

 

Mark rubbed his sweaty hands on his thighs, the moisture obviously having rerouted straight from his leather-dry mouth to his suddenly damp palms. God it was so silly to be nervous like this, wasn’t it? It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen Nicky twice this week already, and three times the week before. And yet he was practically shaking with nervous excitement.

He tugged nervously at the hem of his shirt, giving himself a surreptitious appraisal in the glass of the window they were passing, not wanting Kian or Shane to notice his furtive glance. He looked okay, he supposed… even though it had taken forever to decide what to wear, and then of course Kian had gotten involved and now he was sure he looked like an eejit. He wanted to look good for Nicky, but then he didn’t want to look like he was on the pull either. Which he wasn’t.

All he wanted… was Nicky.

It was a sheerly frightening thought. Here he was, suddenly finding himself in state of devotion concerning someone he barely even knew. Someone who was, for all intents and purposes, completely unavailable. Someone he had absolutely no possible future with.

And yet…

His next thought, the one which he suspected was going to contain an awful lot of desperate and unattainable hope, was swept away by the figure that appeared in front of their little group a second later, standing near the doors of the pub, dwarfed by a larger figure yet somehow untouchable, glowing with an inner-light that only Mark could see at that moment.

Perfect. Just…

 

*

 

…perfect. God, he looked amazing. Faded jeans setting off beautifully solid thighs and encasing long, long legs that Nicky could almost feel wrapping around his waist while they ground together. An untucked black shirt with a brown leather jacket over the top, ethereal against pale, pettable skin, a dark tuft of chest hair poking out over the top. And… oh jesus… oh god, that was eyeliner… that was fucking eyeliner!

Nicky swallowed hard, trying to will down the sudden stiffness in his trousers.

Eyeliner. Fucking eyeliner!

Jesus Christ, this was gonna be a long night.

 

*

 

“I never knew…” Nicky whispered against his ear as they stood in line for the bathroom. “…that eyeliner could look so fucking hot.”

Mark shivered, Nicky’s breath warm against his skin, and the words sending a rush of lust through him, making him ache. With remarkable restraint, if he did say so himself, he turned and smiled.

“You think it looks okay? Kian talked me into it. He’s been banging on about it for months.”

“I don’t think it looks okay.” Mark smiled, anticipating what was coming next by the small smile on Nicky’s mouth and the hungry gleam in his eyes. “I think it looks so sexy I want to shag you right here.”

Mark swallowed, his eyes racing up and down Nicky’s body, wanting to feel it against him.

“I want you to.”

Nicky raised an eyebrow. The line shifted behind Mark, but as Mark went to move with it, he found his arm being grabbed and he was dragged sideways, down the hall and out a door into the freezing cold night.

His breath was forced out of his lungs by the stinging night air, and he fought to catch it as he was pinned against the wall, Nicky’s mouth devouring his, his head spinning madly. Nicky wriggled against him, hands clutching at Mark’s shoulders and neck. Gasping for breath, Mark grudgingly pushed Nicky away.

“What?” Nicky panted. Mark shook his head.

“Breathing is good.” He laughed, and felt a warm, sweet feeling flood into him when Nicky gave him a crooked grin.

“Caught your breath now?”

Mark laughed. “Yep.” Then moaned when Nicky pressed against him again, his body deliciously warm despite the cold darkness of the alley. Mark pulled up for air again and glanced around. Yep, definitely an alley. Apparently they’d come out some sort of staff entrance.

“Classy.” He mumbled. Nicky chuckled, capturing his mouth in a hard, exhausting kiss.

“Best I could do at short notice.”

“I’ll live.” Mark replied, spinning them round so he had Nicky pinned, needing to feel at least a small amount of control. He caught Nicky’s mouth again, his head beginning to spin again when he felt a tongue dart out, teasing his, then fingers clench tightly in his hair, a thigh pressing up into his groin. Jesus. Jesus.

“More.” Nicky’s soft whimper made his nerves sizzle with sudden need.

“Uh huh.” Mark agreed, retrieving his mouth from Nicky’s and trailing it down a long, pale throat that tilted back to allow him access. God, Nicky smelled and tasted good. Like absolutely heaven. “Smell so good.” He croaked, moaning when Nicky let out a hoarse laugh in reply and slipped his hands under Mark’s jacket, gripping handfuls of his shirt.

 

*

 

“God…” Nicky groaned at the feel of Mark’s hands sliding under his shirt, pressing to his skin and moulding his lower back, pulling their hips together. It felt so good… Mark’s warm body, burning against him in the coldness of the alley. Nicky didn’t know what he’d been thinking when he’d dragged them out here – wasn’t sure if he had been thinking at all. Mark always had that effect on him.

He ignored the fact that the others were probably wondering where they were right now, even though he knew it was infinitely risky to ignore something so vital. All he could focus on was the dangerously sexy young man pinning him to the wall, the feeling of Mark’s cock thrusting against his thigh.

“I… need… you…” Mark panted, his breath rushing hot and damp over Nicky’s cheek. Then he jerked as Nicky’s hands found their own way down to grip the fleshy, sexy globes of Mark’s arse, his body moving suddenly harder until he was rubbing himself rhythmically against Nicky’s thigh.

“Fuck.” Nicky whispered, one hand curling around Mark’s nape and pulling him close, trying to hold back a loud moan at the way Mark was humping his leg, hard and apparently without embarrassment. He lifted his thigh a little higher, and felt his own cock surge painfully when Mark made a strangled, desperate growl, deep in his throat.

“Shit.” Mark whispered suddenly, reaching down to grapple with his jeans, getting them open and then pushing himself against Nicky’s thigh again, his cock brilliantly visible. Nicky reached down to grip it, the sensation of another man’s cock almost natural in his hand, despite the reservations he’d initially had. And it was Mark’s cock. Mark’s cock, just like the rest of him, was utterly beautiful.

He closed his eyes against the surging adoration that swept through him.

No, he couldn’t feel this way about Mark. He couldn’t have Mark. Not ever.

 

*  
  


“Erm… we got lost.” Mark prevaricated, unable to meet Shane’s questioning eyes. They’d been gone twenty minutes, it was stupid to assume there wouldn’t be some questions. And there had been. Starting with the inquiring eyebrow Bryan had raised, and followed very swiftly by a rather crude comment from Kian. Now Shane was asking, properly, and lying was agony.

He hadn’t realised before how hard this would be. Hell, the thought of lying to his friends had never even occurred to him. But there was something about the earnest way Nicky had asked him not to tell anyone – anyone at all – that made him for the first time include Shane and Kian under that umbrella. They told each other everything, regardless of what it was. And now, looking awkwardly at the table so he could avoid Shane’s gaze, he felt sick with it.

“I need another drink.” Nicky announced suddenly, standing up and nearly toppling the table over in the process. His hands were shaking – Mark could see it, and hoped the others wouldn’t notice. “Anyone?”

“I’d love one.” Bryan agreed, standing up as well. “You lads want anything?”

 

*

 

“You got lost?” Bryan laughed, as Nicky leaned over the bar to order. “How the hell did you manage that one?”

Nicky forced a laugh. “Think I’ve had one too many drinks.”

“Then one more won’t hurt, eh?” Bryan chuckled slightly drunkenly, nudging Nicky. Nicky nodded. Yeah, drunkenness – that was the thing that had led him to risk his secret so carelessly.

That and the hot, whimpering breath scorching his tongue when Mark had taken his mouth so frantically and come all over the dirty brick wall.

“What, sorry?” Nicky shook his head his head to clear it when he realised Bryan was still talking to him, consumed as he had been in the feeling of hoarse, gasping moans clawing their way out of Mark’s throat, the throb of his own cock when Mark had sunk to his knees and released it, his mouth hot and talented, hands stroking him. Oh yes. God. Fucking Mark’s mouth. Wishing vaguely that Mark would let go and stand up so Nicky could kiss him again, tell him how gorgeous he was and…

“You on another planet or something?” Bryan laughed. Nicky shook his head.

“Nah, just gotten used to tuning you out, Mac.” Nicky teased. Bryan poked him.

“Fuck you.”

“Rather not. But Shane’d be willing to have a go, I’m sure.”

“Fuck you.” Bryan repeated, sticking out his tongue, then turning around to wave brightly at Shane, who laughed and waved back before turning toward Kian again. Mark was sitting silently, looking into his drink. “Don’t think he’s interested in me anymore.” He said in a melancholy voice.

“You cared?” Nicky laughed.

“Nah. Yeah. Was kinda cool.” Bryan said wistfully. “Even fellas go for me, I’m that good.”

“I’m sure that’s it.”

“Mm…” Bryan sighed, but his longing look was broken by the bartender finally getting around to them. Bloody hell it was packed tonight. Bryan ordered for them both, and Nicky slipped him the money. Nicky watched the bargirl’s breasts bounce while she made their drinks.

Yeah, they were okay. Nice. Sure.

They went back to the table, Nicky already forgetting what the bargirl’s breasts looked like as soon as he slid into the booth next to Mark.

 

*

 

Mark looked worriedly at Nicky. It was almost three in the morning now, and the blonde had been putting back drinks as though the apocalypse was approaching. Not that Mark wasn’t at least mildly drunk – he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t light-headed – but it was as though Nicky had been on a mission. Every few minutes there had seemed to be a new one in front of him, and Mark hadn’t known how to tell him to stop without seeming suspicious.

Nicky had reached and passed the ‘I love you’ stage as though it hadn’t even existed, and now he was completely trollied, hanging off Kian’s arm and saying something pointless and rambled about an old car he’d had when he had been seventeen. Which was okay. As long as it didn’t lapse into something pointless and rambled about Mark.

Though the way he was feeling right now, Mark was almost tempted to let him.

He understood, of course he did, that it was mostly to do with the cocktail of alcohol, lust, and bitterness that was rushing through his system, but there would be something so… liberating about it, wouldn’t there? Then Nicky would have to stay with him. He wouldn’t have Georgina any more. Nicky could be with Mark.

He was broken out of his thoughts by Bryan standing up, though he only noticed that because Bryan was tugging Nicky with him. Nicky. He loved Nicky.

“No… wanna stay here… don’t wanna…”

“Think it’s time you went home to bed, Nix.” Bryan said, just loud enough for Mark to hear it. “Come on, lad. Georgina’ll be wanting you.”

“No. Sh’don’t wan’ me…” Nicky slurred, eyes rolling into a glare. “Leave m‘lone… Can’t do… do nothin’… Mark! Go home wi’ Mark… not Gina…”

Mark laughed it off. Or tried. He felt queasy and frightened. He hiccupped nervously.

“You don’t wanna go home with me, Nicky.” Mark said, getting up as well and tugging Nicky’s other arm over his shoulder, aware of the two bleary-eyed gazes on them as Shane and Kian watched from the booth, slumped bonelessly against each other in the way of true drunken friendship. “You want your wife.”

“No…” Nicky moaned. “No… I’ useless… can’t even… can’t even get ‘er… ge’ preggers… S’my fault… all my fault…”

“I’m sure it’s not your fault.” Mark forced out, hefting Nicky’s arm a little higher and ignoring the grateful look Bryan gave him. Nicky on Georgina. Nicky in Georgina. God… no… no… Nicky’s face between her smooth, slim thighs… her fingers in his hair… his tongue on her breasts… her mouth on his cock…

No. No. Not right now. When he was sober. When he could force the images away like he usually did. Not right now.

“S’my fault.” Nicky sighed, leaning against Mark. “Dunno why… never… sh’always wanted ki… kids…” He whimpered softly. “Can’ do it…” He looked blearily up at Mark. “Don’t matter wi’ you… can’ getcha preg… pregnant an’way."

Mark laughed. He made himself do it. “You’re talking crap, idiot. Shut up.” Bryan laughed as well, and Mark rolled his eyes at the forlorn looking shape strung between them. “You want me to help you get him to a cab?” Please god don’t let Nicky say anything in the cab.

Bryan nodded, and they began to drag him away, Mark’s feet heavy under Nicky’s weight.

 

*

 

“Nicky… thank god, did you get my messages?” Nicky looked up at the figure that bounced towards him in the hallway. He tried to open his eyes wider. It didn’t work.

“What?” He tried to ask. That didn’t work either. His head hurt. God. And where was Mark? He was supposed to come home with Mark.

“I…” Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him, and he winced in the sudden brightness when she switched the hall light on. He staggered to the side, crashing down to collapse against the wall, sure the light had some kind of physical force. “You’re drunk.” She said accusingly.

Was he? There had been some drinking, he was sure of it. Oh well.

“Sorry.” He forced out. That didn’t much work either.

“We’ll just have to wait for next month to make a baby then.” She said in an ugly, tearful voice, her foot catching him lightly in the hip. He was sure that hadn’t been on purpose, that kick. She’d never kick him. “Unless you think you can get that sad excuse for a dick doing anything.”

Nicky looked down, poking his groin experimentally. No movement down below, captain! He giggled to himself.

She kicked him again – accidentally, obviously – and switched off the light. He heard her footsteps heavy on the steps (god, Gina, why do you have to thump your feet?) and then the door slam. He winced.

His phone fell out of his pocket as he collapsed forward, and he groped at it, fingers settling heavily onto the buttons. The screen lit up, his finger having hit the ‘open message’ button. He glanced up.

‘Come home now.’ The black words said. He squinted, unable to see the next part, his mouth gaping slightly as he tried to put the blurry words back together. He blinked. ‘I’m ovulating.’

He sighed and shut his eyes, curling up on the floor and feeling drowsiness slide toward him like a fog.


	10. Fumbling

“Hello.” Mark said, leaning against the doorway, already feeling his body react to the simple sight of Nicky. Stood on the stoop in tight jeans and a crisp, almost see-through white shirt, the blonde had never looked more gorgeous. Well except for Thursday night. And last Saturday. And Monday, in the car during Nicky’s lunch break. And the other week, in the staff loos at the supermarket.

It was Saturday again now, and Mark instinctively stepped aside, allowing Nicky to pass him, smiling at the devilish smirk that twisted slim, delicious lips.

“Mark.” And then, without warning, Mark was shoved against the wall. Nicky’s body pressed against his, mouth sealing his own with a scorching kiss. A hand began to grapple with his jeans.

“Bedroom?” Mark laughed, feeling dazed but excited.

“Best idea you’ve had all week, Feehily.” Nicky growled, pushing away and grabbing Mark’s hand, dragging him towards the solitary bedroom in the apartment. Mark was sharing it with Shane at the moment, the older boy’s strange mood having disappeared with a sheepish smile the afternoon after his unexpected outburst.

Slamming the door behind him, Nicky grabbed the edges of Mark’s shirt, slipping the buttons through as quickly as he could, and Mark laughed when he saw the concentration in Nicky’s eyes as the smaller man tried not to rip any of them off. In turn, Mark’s fingers were fumbling with Nicky’s belt, needing it open.

“God you’re sexy.” Nicky mumbled, finally wrenching the shirt open and immediately attacking Mark’s chest, his tongue playing havoc with Mark’s nipples while his fingers skated up and down his stomach and sides, the sensation almost tickling. Mark shrugged the shirt off his shoulders, and then set to work on Nicky’s belt again, yanking it out with a flourish once the buckle was undone. Nicky quickly unzipped his own jeans and shed his shirt, pushing Mark backwards onto the bed. Within seconds the jeans were gone and his weight settled heavily on Mark’s stomach, his fingers grabbing Mark’s hair while his mouth just about inhaled Mark’s tongue.

The feeling was so unexpectedly erotic that Mark was thrusting up in moments, relishing the soft cries and loud whimpers, the feel of Nicky’s skin against his, those fingers trailing fire over his scalp, almost too much to bear.

“Oh fuck…” Mark whimpered when he felt Nicky’s cock brush his stomach, slick fluid making a trail over his belly button. Nicky pulled away, gasping.

“Fuck.” He panted. “I want you.”

Mark inhaled jerkily, feeling his eyes widen at the husky, rasping admission. He reached down, gripping Nicky’s cock in his right hand and watching Nicky’s whole body roll into his touch. This was perfect, making Nicky respond like this. Watching his face as his eyes rolled back, seeing his lips part around gorgeous little moans. He could almost forget that Nicky was ma…

He shoved that thought away before it could settle in. There was no point dwelling on it now, no matter the guilt he’d feel later. The feelings he had for Nicky were more than he’d ever thought he could have for one person. He couldn’t give this up, couldn’t let his remorse overtake the way Nicky made him feel the rest of the time. He’d never been in love, but he thought that this could possibly be what it felt like.

It was pretty bloody wonderful, if he did say so himself.

He squeezed slowly as he dragged his fist up Nicky’s shaft, rolling his knuckles slightly to disperse the pressure. Nicky cried out. His cock was hard and weeping, the tip red and slick with fluid. Mark felt his mouth fill with saliva, his eyes burning hungrily.

“I wanna suck you. God, Nicky.”

Nicky made a funny little whining noise in his throat, his thrusts suddenly becoming erratic. Mark pushed himself up until they were face to face and kissed Nicky hard, Nicky’s mouth yielding instantly to his insistent tongue.

He lay back, dragging Nicky with him, a hot, hard brand once again pressing forcefully into the soft flesh of his stomach. He wriggled, grabbing Nicky’s beautifully firm arse and pulling him upwards.

Nicky shuffled obligingly up, and before Mark knew it firm thighs were straddling his neck, Nicky’s delicious cock less than an inch from his mouth.

“Suck me.” Nicky groaned. “Please.”

Mark reached down to squeeze the front of his own unbearably tight jeans, the croaking need in Nicky’s voice sending hot shards of pressure down to his groin. He licked his lips, then reached forward with his tongue, wrapping it gently around the tip of Nicky’s cock.

Nicky’s thighs buckled slightly, but Mark didn’t even falter. The taste of Nicky, hot and bitter on his tongue, was almost too much to bear. Not wasting any time, his stomach practically growling with hunger, he palmed Nicky’s smooth, gorgeous arse and began to pull Nicky into his mouth.

Mark’s head tilted right back as Nicky slid slowly into his mouth. He could just see Nicky’s hands above him, gripping the bed rail so tightly his knuckles were turning white. The smell was incredible… a musky, sweaty, masculine smell, full of sex and Nicky. Nicky groaned softly, and Mark savoured the jerky, heavy feeling of Nicky’s thick shaft filling his mouth and stretching his lips, the taste bitter on his tongue, tickling the back of his throat. He took a deep, deep breath… and then he swallowed, hearing Nicky’s strangled yelp as Mark’s throat contracted beautifully, almost suffocating. The power was overwhelming, even though he was laid on his back. The feeling that he was making Nicky feel like this, taking Nicky in. He whimpered softly, reaching down to unzip his own jeans while Nicky thrust raggedly into his mouth.

It must have looked strange, really. Nicky straddling his face, cock pushing slowly in and out of his mouth, Mark’s eyes wide as he stared up at the white-knuckled grip Nicky had on the rail. One hand buried in his jeans, tugging slowly and eagerly on his own cock. It must have looked awfully strange.

Especially to Shane.

“Oh my god!”

The yelp from the other side of the room was loud, and Mark’s head whipped around fast when he heard the door slam a moment later. Probably too fast, because Nicky cried out and collapsed on the bed next to him, hand groping his own cock.

“Shit! Sorry!” Mark winced, tonguing the sharp tooth that had caught Nicky on the way out.

“S’okay.” Nicky moaned, cupping himself and curling into a ball. “Shit, what was that?”

“Shane. He… he saw us…”

“Fuck!” Nicky swore loudly, and Mark reached over to lay a hand on his shoulder, pulling it back when Nicky shrugged it away.

“He won’t tell anyone.” Mark tried to reassure him, even though he wasn’t exactly sure. His suspicions were confirmed when the door opened again and a blonde head appeared around the door, a cautious smirk on Kian’s face.

“Oh my god, he was right!” Kian cackled. “I knew there was something going on!”

The door slammed shut again, and Mark turned what he hoped was an apologetic frown to Nicky. “Erm… he won’t tell anyone else.” God, that felt weak.

Nicky closed his eyes tightly and groaned, though whether it was emotional or physical torment Mark couldn’t quite tell. Nicky’s hand was still cradling his genitals.

“Are you okay?”

 

 

*

 

 

Nicky groaned into the pillow. His dick fucking hurt, he knew that much. Having someone’s tooth wrenched all the way along his cock had not been high on his to do list, and he hoped never to repeat the experience. Mark was looking at him apologetically, but he didn’t care. The secret was out and, god fucking dammit, could it have come out to two worse people?

In hindsight, Nicky thought that he probably should have checked that Shane and Kian weren’t going to be coming home any time soon, but that was Mark’s department of expertise, not his. Why the hell hadn’t Mark thought to at least lock the door or something?

A soft, strong hand landed on his shoulder but he shrugged it away, not wanting to be comforted. He was fucking pissed off, and he was fucking terrified. He didn’t need the source of all his problems to be touching him.

Why the fuck did Mark have to do this to him? It was bad enough that he was a man, but why did Mark have to be so damn sexy and so damn irresistible, and why did Mark have to worm his way into Nicky’s life and mess with his head so that he couldn’t think straight? This was all Mark’s fucking fault. And now Georgina was going to find out. And she was already pissed at him. She’d hardly spoken to him all week, and he couldn’t blame her.

“Look, I’ll make sure they don’t tell anyone. They’ll understand how important it is. I trust them.”

Mark looked a bit unsure.

“Well I don’t trust them!” Nicky shot back. “How can you guarantee that?”

“They’re my friends.” Mark mumbled, glancing at the door. Nicky rolled his eyes and returned to tending to his injured cock, which at least was starting to feel a little less excruciating. A sharp, angry part of his brain decided that maybe he’d deserved it.

“I’ll go talk to them.” Mark rolled away and began to reach for his shirt, yanking it on over his head. He shook his rumpled hair. Then he zipped up his jeans, his semi-hard cock still pressing them out of shape. Nicky ignored it, not wanting to want Mark when he was so fucking pissed off at him. “I’ll just be a second.”

Mark left the room, and Nicky heard wild catcalls before the door closed again, and Mark’s nervous laughter. He felt himself flush. That was it, was it? Mark wandered out to give them all the gory details while Nicky sat in here like a stone. He stood up himself, pressing his ear to the door while he put his jeans on, wanting to hear what was being said about him.

“…look, you just can’t!”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s married, for fuck’s sakes!”

Shane cut in. “So why are you shagging him, then?”

There was a short silence. A very short one. But it seemed to go on for an awfully long, frustrating time. Nicky’s heart began to pound against the inside of his chest, his palms beginning to sweat. Eventually, Mark took a deep breath.

“…I… I think I’m in love with him…”

Nicky’s heart dropped out.

 

*

 

“You’re… what?” Mark closed his eyes, if only to avoid the look of complete disbelief on Kian’s face. He pressed his thumb and index finger to them, the sudden headache making him groan under his breath.

When he opened his eyes, Kian was staring incredulously at him, while Shane gave him a look of pitying sympathy.

“Um… I’m in love with him… I think.”

“You think.”

“Well, I don’t know.” Mark retorted to Kian’s eye roll. “I’ve never been in love before. Not got much to compare it to, have I?”

“But he’s married!”

“I did know that, Kian. Thank you.”

“I knew something was going on!”

“We get it, Ki. Thanks.” Shane cut in before Mark could. Then he turned to Mark. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thanks.” Mark replied, feeling pathetically grateful. At least one of his friends was being sensible, as opposed to Kian who was all rolling eyes and smugness. He looked at his other friend.

“Please don’t tell anyone.”

Kian batted a hand vaguely in Mark’s direction. “Whatever.”

“Ki, I’m serious. Just don’t. Please.” He bit his lip, pleading with his eyes. “For me.”

Kian looked like he was about to say something, but then stopped. He shrugged, looking away. “Alright, alright. Who'm I gonna tell anyway?”

“Thank you.” Mark reached over and hugged him, trying to let Kian know how much he appreciated it. Kian hugged him back, and Mark knew that no matter Kian’s flaws, he could depend on him for this. “Thank you so much.”

“Yeah, of course.” Kian hugged back awkwardly. “Now go brush your teeth. Your mouth smells like dick.”

Mark laughed weakly, glancing over at Shane, who shrugged at him with a smile. Kian could be bloody near impossible when he felt like it.

“I… I better go back and talk to Nicky…” He mumbled finally, standing up, not looking forward to the inevitable confrontation that would follow. He had to convince Nicky now, let him know that he was safe. Nicky was not likely to calm down for quite a while yet, Mark could tell. He’d gotten confused and scared, and was obviously beginning to lash out. Mark could understand… Nicky’s life had been thrown into complete turmoil and one tiny slip could spell the end of everything for him.

Mark tongued the sharp tooth in the corner of his mouth again and winced.

 

*

 

“Nicky?”

Nicky leant back against the door, running a hand shakily over his face. Mark loved him. Thought he loved him. Oh god, this wasn’t happening.

But what the fuck was he even doing here if he didn’t feel the same way about Mark? If he was going to be breaking Georgina’s heart, fucking her over, shouldn’t he be doing it with someone he loved? Someone he felt really genuinely for? Someone who was worth all this turmoil?

“Nicky?” Mark called again, his voice a little louder and slightly panicked. “Open the door please?”

Nicky bit his lip, and stepped forward so the door could open, not even able to smile as Mark fell through the door, apparently in the process of slamming the door down. Mark staggered up into a standing position again and smiled awkwardly.

“You love me?” Nicky squeaked, unable to contain the question for even a single moment. Get the scary, painful thing over as quickly as possible – like ripping off a bandaid.

“I…I…” Mark swallowed, something that was either fear or absolute terror filling his eyes. Nicky stared back, his heart hammering in his throat. “I didn’t say that.”

“I heard you!” Nicky snapped nervously, his hands twisting together as he backed toward the door.

“I just said. I said… I don’t know.” Mark stammered. “I don’t necessarily…”

”Are you in love with me?” Nicky barked, feeling his voice crack. “Tell me the truth!”

Mark shook his head, looking totally helpless, and sank down on the bed. Nicky stepped back, looking down at the younger man and trying to read the indefinable look on his face. For all the good it did him, it might as well have been in ancient Greek. Mark swallowed, taking deeply ominous breaths, as though he was going to say something but kept losing the nerve at the last moment. Nicky suspected he knew how Mark felt.

“Mark?” Nicky’s voice actually hurt now, it was so strained and forced. “Tell me. Please…”

“I don’t know.” Mark said with a soft finality that made Nicky’s heart scream in torment. “I don’t know, Nicky, I’m sorry.” He looked up, eyes strangely blank. “Do you want me to be?”

“I…” The question made Nicky reel back, and he collapsed to lean against the door, his fingers running tensely through his hair as though the action would uncoil the tightness inside him that squeezed into his heart and belly. He gulped, looking away.

“I’m sorry. That’s not fair.” Mark’s voice trembled on the last word, and Nicky looked up at him.

“It is, and you know it.” Nicky said. Mark shrugged.

“This is hard for you. I get it. I’m sorry, I won‘t push.”

“You want me to be in love with you, then?” Nicky asked, pushing his hands through his hair again. Mark shrugged.

“Maybe. I don’t know. On the assumption that I’m even in love with you. Like I said, I don’t know if I…”

“You do know.” Nicky said softly, the fight draining out of him. All he wanted was the truth. It was too hard to be complicated at the moment. He couldn’t stand anything more than he had to. The truth. That was all he wanted right now.

 

*

 

Mark inhaled sharply, his throat tightening at Nicky’s words, and gulped to open it again, feeling suddenly as though he couldn’t breathe.

“You know.” Nicky repeated. “I need to know. Please. I won’t get angry or…”

“You have a wife.” Mark whispered, thinking that that was the least of their problems at the moment. “You love her.”

Nicky was silent for a long moment, his face a swirling mix of emotions. Mark had only said it to stave off further questions, had seen it as a small stumbling block, but apparently it meant a lot more to Nicky than Mark had intended. Nicky sank down on the floor, his fingers running through his hair over and over, shoulders shaking. Mark wanted to reach out and hold him, but didn’t dare. Nicky’s bleak eyes looked up at him, and his throat tightened.

“I love Georgina.” Nicky murmured. “I do. I married her.”

“Why are you here, then?” Mark whispered through the lump in his throat, and Nicky’s eyes cleared enough so that he was actually looking at Mark and not through him. A harsh sob escaped his mouth, and Mark felt something within himself fall apart at the broken look he was given. He loved Nicky. He did. Oh god.

“I don’t know.” Nicky murmured. “I love her.”

“So why are you here?” In some far away, sensible part if his mind, Mark realised that he was pushing Nicky away right now, giving him an out. Mark didn’t want him to have an out. He wanted him to stay. He loved Nicky.

Nicky loved Georgina.

“I wanted you.” Nicky bit his lip. “I want you. I love…” He exhaled. “I’m not gay.”

“Are you sure about that?” Mark asked gently, sliding down off the edge of the bed so he was level with Nicky, the blonde’s gaze following him while Mark watched him hesitantly.

"Yes! Of course I’m not fucking gay!” Nicky exclaimed. “For fuck’s sakes! Are you stupid?”

“Maybe.” Mark said softly, to himself more than anyone. Surely it was stupid to be in love with a straight man who was that attached and devoted to his wife. Surely it was stupid to be trying to pursue an actual relationship with him. “But if you’re not gay, and you’re in love with her, why are you sleeping with me?”

“I…” Nicky glared it him, his eyes filled with a malice Mark hadn’t seen before. Nicky had always been lost, tormented. Not angry or hateful like this, as though Mark had committed the acts he was accusing Nicky of. He stood shakily, looking around himself, skimming over Mark. “I have to go home. To my wife. I love her.”

“Nicky…” Mark attempted, shooting to his feet when he realised Nicky was serious. “I didn’t mean for you to leave! I love…” Nicky froze, back still to Mark, his hand on the doorknob. He turned his head, glancing over his shoulder, and Mark swallowed, biting back the end of that sentence. What good would it do, really, other than to turn Nicky into a nervous, distressed wreck? He looked away, feeling the lie touch his lips.

“I love the time we spend together.” He felt Nicky’s gaze narrow, burning into him even though Mark’s eyes were averted. “But… but I don’t think I love you.”

“You don’t?”

“I…” Mark shrugged, the lie having burnt his tongue too much for him to be able to speak. Nicky’s gaze ran over him, questioning.

“I don’t love you either.” Nicky said. “I love my wife.”

“So why are you here?” Mark snapped, looking back up at Nicky, and biting his lip to stop the scream of anguish that threatened to burst forth. “You’re married, you love your wife. Why are you even fucking here?”

“Because…” Nicky faltered, and Mark barely saw him move before he disappeared through the bedroom door, shutting it behind him. He heard the front door slam as well, and Kian call something out. Probably something crude. Mark breathed out, all the fight deserting him, and sank to the floor, face in his hands.


	11. Forget It

Nicky moaned, his arms wrapping around a soft, pliant body that pushed back onto him and whimpered softly, hands clutching at him as best as they could, considering he was behind, his face buried in dark hair. There was a yelping gasp, and moist flesh shuddered around him, bringing him closer to the edge.

“Nicky… baby…” She panted, her hands grabbing his bum to pull him further in, his legs capturing hers and spooning them tighter. His hands moved from her breasts down to her waist, pulling her closer against him.

“I love you.” He whispered honestly. He did, so much. God, how could he have ever doubted that for a moment? He could he ever have…

An image of Mark, naked on his back, arching up under Nicky, flashed into his mind, and against his best efforts he felt himself harden that impossible fraction more. She grabbed onto him, her fingers reaching back to tighten in his hair, and he moved his mouth to her throat, suckling and nibbling at her while she bucked and trembled in his grip.

…Mark whimpered, pushing up into Nicky’s tongue; large, skilful hands pulling Nicky’s mouth to his throat…

“Nicky!” She groaned, her hips suddenly moving that little bit faster, and he moved his fingers downward, searching her out, playing with her, feeling her wetness envelop him…

She cried out, fingers tightening painfully in his hair, her muscles grasping frantically at his cock. He gasped as she shuddered around him, squeezing him, and then he was coming hard, biting back the cry that flew instantly to his lips.

“Mark!” His mind cried out, while he bit his lip almost hard enough to draw blood.

“Oh Nicky…” She panted as he curled tightly around her, both of them soaking in sweat.

“I love you.” He whispered, more to remind himself than to bestow affection. But he couldn’t bring himself to say her name. Not while Mark’s was still ringing in his head.

 

*

 

Mark looked lazily over at Shane, who was buried in a book. They had the house to themselves, Kian having stropped out about half an hour ago, calling them both lazy buggers and absolutely no fun at all. But it wasn’t Mark’s fault if he didn’t feel like going out, and it wasn’t Shane’s fault if, for some strange reason, he had decided he felt like a quiet night at home.

“You don’t have to babysit me, you know. I’ll be fine.” Mark had said, keeping in mind the fact that Shane had been giving him some very contemplative looks since the scene three days ago when Nicky had stormed out. There’d been no contact since then. No phone calls, no text messages. No nothing.

Shane had shaken his head, though. “It’s not you. I just don’t feel like it.”

Now, as they sat, Mark idly watching the TV and Shane apparently immersed in a book, he found himself thinking back to Nicky. What they’d said. What he’d said. The lies.

‘I love you.’ He thought silently. ‘I do.’

Fuck.

Not that it meant anything now. That was all history, as far as Nicky was probably concerned. Nicky had realised, hadn’t he, that he loved his wife. That Mark was just a… a what? A fling? An experiment? Whatever it was, Mark was not his, and he was not Mark’s. Nicky belonged to Georgina.

Mark bit back an anguished sigh, and Shane looked up, even though Mark didn’t think he’d made any noise to alert him.

“You okay?”

Mark nodded, not meeting Shane’s eyes.

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” Shane nodded slowly, then turned back to his book. But then he spoke again, his eyes not lifting from the page. “Because here I was thinking you were a miserable sod.”

“I’m okay.”

“Mmm.” Shane’s hum was just enough to make Mark’s hackles rise, and he glared at Shane, the television forgotten.

“Is there something you want to say?” He said tersely. Shane shrugged.

“Not particularly.”

“Good. Shut up.”

“Oh shut the fuck up, yourself.” Shane snapped, slamming the book shut and dropping it into his lap. “You think you’re the only one with problems, Mr Sensitive? Why don’t you write a book, then everyone can see how fucking miserable you are!”

“What?” Mark said, after a long, heavy silence that threatened to suffocate him. His head swam in shock, unable to believe what Shane had just said. He wasn’t even aware he’d been selfish – he still didn’t think he had! Since when was not talking about your problems dramatic?

“Oh just… fuck off.” Shane retorted, standing up. The book fell in a flutter of paper to the floor but he ignored it, stomping into the bedroom and slamming the door.

“Shane?” Mark called, vaguely aware that Shane probably couldn’t hear him, and likely wouldn’t answer if he could. He stood, following after his older friend, and pushed open the bedroom door, glad it didn’t lock. Shane was laid, face down and spread-eagled, on the bed, his body unnaturally still.

“Go away.”

Mark ignored him, sitting down on the bed and reaching out to put a hand on the back of Shane’s head. “You okay?”

“Yes. Fuck off.”

“You’re okay, are you? Really?”

“Yes!” Shane lifted his face long enough to yell, and then it sank back into the pillow. Mark rolled his eyes in confusion and lay down next to him, propping himself up on his elbow and regarding the smaller man.

“Because you look like a miserable shite to me.”

“Mark, just… fuck off.” Shane muttered, turning his head to the side, away from Mark. “I don’t feel like talking to you.”

“Why?”

“Because I…” Shane paused, shaking his head. “I don’t want to.”

“I’ll just stay here then. Quietly.” Mark said, laying down properly on his side, body curved in towards Shane. Then when Shane didn’t move, he shifted closer, spooning himself around the smaller man. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t.” But Shane pushed himself further into the embrace.

“Okay.” Mark nodded. “That’s fine.” There was a short silence.

“Maybe you should be the one talking.” Shane said, sounding a little calmer but still defensive. “You’re the eejit who’s shagging the married guy.”

“Not any more, I’m not.” Mark shrugged.

He felt Shane tense. “Why?”

“Because…” Mark sighed. “He’s in love with his wife, isn’t he? I was just a… thing. Experiment. Something. I dunno.”

Shane nodded. “You didn’t say.” He murmured. “I just thought he hadn’t been coming around cos you guys got busted. Or something. But you looked really miserable and I didn’t know…” He sighed. “Why don’t you talk to me anymore?”

“I… I do.” Mark stammered, startled. Of course he talked to Shane. Since when did he not talk?

“You don’t. You’re always off with Nicky, and you don’t come out with us, and… and you don’t talk to me anymore. You used to talk to me all the time.”

“I…” Mark shook his head, his arms shifting on Shane’s waist when he shrugged. “I’m sorry. I hadn’t realised.” Jesus, was it possible he’d gotten so caught up in this… thing… he’d forgotten his friends? He hadn’t thought so, but now he thought about it… yeah. He’d always stayed behind when they’d gone out, waiting for Nicky to sneak over. And of course he hadn’t talked to Shane. How could he have, when the secret was the most important thing to the man he… he…

Loved.

“Well.” Shane shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

“No. It does. I’m sorry.” Mark sighed, pressing a kiss to the back of Shane’s head. “I’ll try to be better. Now it’s over, I guess…” He laughed softly. “Sorry to leave you with Kian all that time. How did you ever survive?”

Shane shook his head. “Kian’s not so bad.”

“Mr Grumpypants?”

“Oh stop it!” Shane snapped, then paused, as though catching himself. “You don’t know him like I do.” He continued softly. “He can be really sweet and caring, and he’s not as arrogant as you think. He can be really insecure sometimes and…” He paused again, caught himself again. “Just forget it.”

Mark exhaled, the picture beginning to come together in his head when he felt Shane pull away a little.

“Why didn’t you go out with Kian tonight?” He asked. “If you guys are so close?”

“I dunno. Wasn’t in the mood. He’d just end up shagging half the bar and I’d sit on my own.”

“You shag everyone too.” Mark pointed out, and Shane shrugged.

“I didn’t feel like it.”

“Uh huh.”

Shane sighed, rolling away and standing up, looking at his feet with a troubled gaze. “Can we get some takeaway and watch a bad film? Please?”

“Yeah.” Mark stood, wrapping his smaller friend in a hug and patting him on the back. “But you’re buying.”

“Thanks.” Shane laughed. “You know how much I love buying your food.”

“Only trying to make you happy.” He pulled away, heading back to the living room. If Shane needed him to be nonchalant about this, he would. Even if it was blatantly obvious that this defensive sadness was inextricably linked with Kian.

Mark knew how that felt. He was just glad they had each other, at least, even if it felt a long time coming.

 

*

 

“Home tonight, are you love?” Georgina laughed gently, draping herself over Nicky’s lap, her lips brushing his cheek. He chuckled, feeling adoration swell in his chest when her fingers laced behind his neck, tugging him into a playful kiss.

“I am.” He replied. “How come, do you want me out?”

“Nah. Stay right here.” She said, wriggling a little in his lap, apparently making herself comfortable. Nicky didn’t mind at all. As long as she was talking to him again. Not that he was worth it. He couldn’t even get her pregnant, could he? “Tonight, you’re mine. Mark can find someone else to play with.”

“Mark?” He squeaked, trying desperately to hide his fright. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing.” She shrugged, kissing his lips again and looking calm enough to settle the tornado in his stomach a little, albeit warily. “Just you’ve been over there a lot lately, and it’s nice to have you at home. Though I’m glad you’ve got a new friend, and he seems a lovely guy.” She pulled back and looked at him. “Speaking of which, you haven’t been over there in about… three nights or something. Did you two have a falling out?”

Nicky shook his head quickly.

“No. Course not. Why would we?”

“I dunno.” She shrugged. “I just wondered.” She smiled, letting go and collapsing backwards on the couch, legs still draped over his lap and making him laugh. “Ravish me, my prince.”

Nicky laughed, sliding out from under her and tackling her gently, feeling her wriggle under him.

“Ravish you, eh?”

“Well, only if you feel like it.” She joked, smiling when he brushed a strand of hair from her perfect face, feeling his heart overflow with love. She was beautiful. So beautiful. His best friend, his soul mate. Everything. His world, wrapped up in one amazing package.

“I love you.” He whispered, laying his head on her breast and feeling soft hands stroke through his hair.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” She replied, her fingers soothing against his scalp, yet heartbreaking at the same time. She loved him, without question or condition. And he…

“Are you okay?” She murmured, and he felt the deep rumbling under his cheek when Mark had laughed, the strong fingers that had clumsily tangled in his hair while they had kissed. “Nick?”

“Yeah.” He lied, not able to look at up at her, lest she see the shame in his eyes. “I’m fine. I just love you.”

“Can’t complain about that, then.” She teased gently, and he snorted a laugh against her chest, feeling at home, his face buried in the soft mounds. She felt like home. Safe. His best friend.

His lover. Of course his lover. He loved her.

In his mind, Mark laughed, rolling him over and laying on top of him, kissing him deep.

“Nicky?”

Nicky was startled from his reverie, and looked up, ignoring the fact that he’d just gotten hard in a way he hadn’t when she’d crawled into his lap and kissed him. “Yeah?”

“Nothing, you just went quiet.”

“I’m good.” Nicky shook his head. “I just… I really love you, G.” He breathed, and he felt soft, slim hands caress his hair and shoulders.

 

*

 

“This is boring as shite.” Mark looked round when Kian hissed in his ear, rolling his eyes.

“You’ve been here five minutes. And you were half an hour late, I might add.” He whispered back, frowning when the professor glared meaningfully at them. “I have to be here – it might be important for the exam. You should be here too, for that matter.”

Kian shrugged, settling back in his seat, and then Mark rolled his eyes as the smaller man took out a sheet of paper, writing something on the top in a quick, blocky scrawl. He slid it over to Mark, who glanced down at it.

'I need to get laid.’

Mark sighed, realising Kian was in a completely irritating mood, and would have to be humoured before he’d shut up. He picked up the pen and scribbled a reply.

‘Shag Shane, he’s always horny.’ Maybe that would at least get things on track a bit.

Kian shook his head

‘Shane’s boring.’

‘Why?’

‘Dunno. Been really mopey lately. Won’t talk to me. Don’t know what I’ve done.’

Mark laughed to himself, stopping when Kian nudged him questioningly in the side, mouthing ‘what?’ Mark shook his head, picking up the pen again.

‘Maybe he just needs a shag?’

Kian took the pen straight out of Mark’s hand. ‘Maybe.’ He paused, and Mark reached for the pen, but Kian snatched it away. ‘Can we go? BORED!’

Mark shook his head, pushing the paper and pen back to Kian’s side of the desk. Kian stared at him for a second, then picked the pen up again, scribbling.

‘Where’s Nicky been?’ Mark shrugged, taking the pen, and wishing Kian wasn’t so bloody blunt and nosey. It wasn’t a question he felt like answering.

‘At home, with his wife.’ He put. Kian raised an eyebrow.

‘Why? He likes men.’

‘But he loves his wife.’ Mark wrote. Kian looked it over and nodded, settling back in his seat with a sympathetic look for Mark. Then he sat in silence for the rest of the lecture, letting Mark get on with it. Mark supposed he should thank god for small miracles, but decided he should thank god for Kian instead, who could be surprisingly understanding and tactful when he wasn’t being a complete git.


	12. Must've Forgot

Two and a half weeks later, Nicky supposed his life was getting back on track. He hadn’t seen Mark since that delightful scene at the younger man’s shared house, and he and Georgina were… better. He hadn’t even thought of Mark. Hardly. Certainly not while he was with Georgina – which was to say, not recently while he was Georgina. Today. Or… well… he hadn’t really seen Georgina today, had he? She was sleeping in.

He poured a bowl of coco pops and slumped down at the table.

He had to stop this. It was just… stupid. Stupid. Mark was a stupid fucking crush… fling… whatever the hell he was, and Georgina was his wife, for chrissakes. She was the woman he loved – he was totally, utterly, and completely devoted to her. Except for… well… all that kissing. And all that… that sex…

Good sex, too.

Fucking hell. Fucking fucking hell.

Well, at least they’d never fucked. That was something at least.

Because hey, if they’d fucked, he might have really been cheating on Georgina.

Fucking hell.

 

*

 

Mark was out the back of the shop, eating a sandwich with one hand and organising study notes with the other. He was on a brief respite from work for ten minutes, which was nice considering he’d been chopping and packaging watermelons all day. Exams were coming up and he’d been studying madly for the last week, it was just bad luck he’d been asked to come in today, of all days, when he’d been lamenting for the last month that he’d not been needed at work more than once a week, hence severe money issues.

The life of a casual was so much fucking fun.

Suddenly the PA crackled to life, and he groaned, realising he was the only one not caught up with work on this fine Saturday afternoon.

“Someone to carry a box, please. Someone to carry a box.”

There was a unanimous cry of ‘Mark!” from all the other workers and he stood, putting his notes down on the crate he was sitting on, his sandwich on top so they didn’t blow away.

He expected some little old lady with a crate full of eggplant or something. Or maybe a woman with a baby who couldn‘t juggle a box as well. What he didn’t expect was a very familiar face.

“Mark?”

“Georgina, hey!” He exclaimed, startled. After a second he realised the checkout girl was waiting, and picked the heavy box of vegetables up off the counter, hefting it over his shoulder. “Where to?”

“The car’s over here.” Georgina pointed, flicking her long blonde hair off her face. “Wow, I didn’t know you worked here! How’ve you been?”

“I only work when they call me in, which isn’t much lately. But I’m good.” He smiled, trying to forget exactly what he’d been doing to her husband until a few weeks ago, and the reason he’d been bunking off work so much lately. “How about you?”

“Good.” They paused while she opened the back of the car and he slid the box in. “Hey, are you coming to the barbecue? I’ve not gotten an RSVP off you yet.”

“Barbecue?” Mark asked, confused. “What barbecue?”

“The one next Saturday. Nicky was supposed to tell you; did he not? We’ve not seen you in ages… Nicky seems so busy with work, and you’re always unavailable…” Mark nodded, assuming Nicky had just told her he was unavailable – he’d certainly not been asked. Though he and Nicky were hardly on speaking terms recently.

“Yeah, uni. Driving me mental, you know? I’ve been flat out.”

“Exams coming up?” He nodded in assent. “Well, hopefully you can come then.” She put a hand on his, slamming the lid of the boot shut. “It’ll be nice to see you again – Nicky’s missed you.”

“He has?” Mark asked, surprised.

“Yeah. He hasn’t said, but I can tell. It’s nice for him to have such a good friend, you know? Well, anyway. Next Saturday, come round about five in the afternoon. Grill’s going on at six.”

“Okay.” Mark nodded, playing along even though he had no intention of going, no matter how much he wanted to see Nicky again. He seriously doubted Nicky would want him there and… well… Mark wasn’t sure he could stand to be around the older man anyway. It was too painful. “Do you want me to bring anything?” He asked.

“Not at the moment. I’ll let you know if we need anything.” She smiled, stepping back. “Well, I’d better let you get back to work.”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “See you later then. Saturday, hopefully.”

“Hopefully.” She said. “Well…”

“Yeah.” Mark nodded, then, falling back into his shop-assistant persona: “Have a good day then.”

 

*

 

“Guess who I saw at the shops, babe!”

“Who?”

“Mark!”

The panic was so sudden Nicky almost forgot to reply for a second. “…oh.”

“Apparently he didn’t get his invite to the barbecue… weren’t you supposed to ask him?”

“I…I must’ve… forgot.”

“Well I’ve let him know, and he’ll try to make it. Honestly, you men, so disorganised. Look, I’ll just go put the washing on, could you please bring the shopping in for me?”

“Yeah.” Nicky nodded, watching her leave the room, his throat in his mouth and teeth grinding with the effort it had taken to not react.

Sighing, he picked up his phone and began to type a text message, cursing the way today was turning out.

 

*

 

Mark staggered into the house, his shoulders aching from working all that day. He dumped his backpack on the table and collapsed on the couch. Trust them to call him in four days before a big exam, especially when he’d barely been called in for the past month. He groaned, reaching for his bag and his study notes, when all he wanted was a cup of tea and nice hot bath.

He dragged out the notes, and swore when the object on top of them slid out of the bag and onto the floor. His phone. He picked it up, noticing that the screen was flashing, and pressed a few buttons to bring the message up, his eyes widening.

Nicky. Oh Jesus.

He bit his lip, suddenly apprehensive. What would Nicky have to say to him, after so long apart? Steeling himself, he opened the message…

Plz cum 2 bbq. Gina’ll suspect something & ask q’s if u don’t show. Plz. Sorry.

“FUCK!” Mark shouted, hurling the phone onto the table and slamming his shoulders back onto the couch, his hands over his eyes. Life just couldn’t let up, could it? Why the hell had he ever been hit in the face by that stupid fucking door… all this shit could have been avoided if he’d only watched where he was fucking going. Now he was expected to go hang around the man he… (god Mark, just say it) … was in love with, just so the guy’s WIFE wouldn’t suspect?

Well fuck that!

He picked up the phone and found Nicky’s message again, hitting the reply button.

Y will she suspect? I said I prob couldn’t make it. Uni. Isn’t that enuf?

 

*

 

Nicky’s phone beeped, and he grabbed for it, having been waiting for two hours, seventeen minutes for a reply. Not that he’d been watching the clock or anything. Oh no.

He read over the message and shook his head, tapping back a quick reply with shaking hands. He knew how Mark felt, he did, but it wasn’t just about the two of them anymore. It was about his wife, and how she’d feel if she found out. What would happen.

Fuck, this wasn’t Mark’s fault, but… but why couldn’t he just fucking play along, for god’s sakes? He owed Nicky that much after fucking up his life like this!

Jesus Christ, fucking Mark. Why the hell hadn’t he just watched where he was going? Then none of this bullshit would have happened!

He tapped a message in reply, trying to figure out the best way to kill Mark and hide the body so no-one would ever suspect him. Hell, it was either that or think about how much he wanted to kiss him and throw him to the bed.

 

*

 

Mark opened the next message angrily, cursing himself. Cursing Nicky, for making him feel like this. It wasn’t fucking fair! Either Nicky wanted this, or he didn’t… it was beyond unfair to be acting like Mark was some kind of… of commodity! For god’s ake.

Cos if we don’t c each other, she’s gonna ask if we’ve fallen out. If u cum, it buys me more time 2 cum up with answer. Plz plz plz. Plz. Would mean a lot.

Mark sighed in frustration, torn. It was hardly as though Nicky was the only guilty party in this, was he? Mark didn’t know if he could very well leave him to take it like that, even though he knew Nicky was being overly paranoid. That was his Nicky… always worrying over something…

Georgina’s Nicky! Not ‘his’ Nicky. God, this was more than a little fucked up. Why the hell did he have to be so fucking in love with the self-centred, adulterous twat?

What the hell did he do now?

Biting his lip, he tapped out a quick message.

 

*

 

Nicky picked up his phone and opened the message. It contained just two words.

I’ll see.


	13. Sign of Madness

Mark looked up from his lecture pad, eyeing Kian, who was huddled on the couch over a mostly blank notebook and muttering to himself.

“Talking to yourself is a sign of madness, you know.”

“Fuck off!” Kian barked back, before promptly hunching over his sparse notes again.

“Now see, if you’d actually gone to your classes and done your assignments properly, you wouldn’t be doing this two hours before the exam.”

“I said fuck off!” Kian cried, looking increasingly frustrated. “Now is not the time. Seriously.”

“Okay.” Mark sighed, turning the page and continuing his revision, even though he had most of the information committed to memory already. It was only stress that was hampering his thoughts now. Over uni, of course, but also over the events of the past three months. It was crazy to think how his life had changed – he’d never felt so secretive, so dirty, and yet he’d never felt so alive and happy. Now, of course, all that had stabilised and he was just depressed.

Kian turned the page, swearing quietly, and Mark stood up, carrying his breakfast and notes over to where Kian sat, putting his notes gently over the smaller boy’s own.

“Here, they’re a bit more legible.”

Kian looked up at him, about to say something rude no doubt, but then simply nodded and took Mark’s notes, letting his own fall to the floor. They really were illegible, Mark thought with a sympathetic grimace.

“I’m fucked, aren’t I?” Kian whispered, after a moment’s silence during which Mark busied himself with shovelling the remaining cornflakes into his gob.

“Nah.” Mark mumbled, and then swallowed his mouthful. “You’ll be fine.” He said a little more clearly. “You did okay on the assignments.”

“After you wrote most of them for me.” Kian replied. “Fuck, I don’t know what’s gotten into me this semester. I just haven’t been able to concentrate or get organised…”

“It’s okay.” Mark said, patting his shoulder. “Everyone has a bad semester, right? You’ve just been distracted or something.”

“By what?” Kian said, obviously distressed.

“I dunno.” Mark shrugged. “But look, it really won’t be that bad. You know all this stuff.”

“No I fucking DON’T!” Kian snarled, hurling the notebook across the room, the pages fluttering like a mutant pigeon. Mark watched it go then turned back to Kian, who was red in the face.

“That was my notebook.”

“I know. Sorry.” Kian said softly. “Just needed something to throw.”

“Warn me next time?”

“If I think of it.” Kian sighed, dropping his face into his hands. “I’m screwed. I’m gonna get kicked out of uni, then my mam’ll go spare… I’ll have to go back and live in Sligo, homophobe capital of the world, and she’ll go on about how I have to settle down with a nice girl and then I’ll end up working for my dad or something, working minimum wage until…"

“The world blows up?” Mark interrupted, laughing. “Come on Kian, it’s not as bad as all that.”

“It feels like it.” Kian replied. “Why can’t things just be easy? Why can’t I just… pass my classes, get a job… have some money for once… find a nice bloke…”

“A nice bloke?” Mark was stunned. “You mean, apart from those lads you shag every night of the week?”

“Yeah. Well.” Mark could have sworn he saw a blush rise in Kian’s cheeks when the blonde turned away. “And the other things… it’s just so hard.”

“Well maybe you should start going to classes…”

“You don’t get it, alright? Fuck off.” Kian snarled. “You don’t.” He stood, striding over to the crumpled flurry that had recently been Mark’s notebook, and picked it up. Mark watched him go into his room, carrying the notebook, and shut the door.

 

*

 

They were walking down the middle of Grafton Street when Bryan said it, on a bright, sunny Wednesday afternoon. Everything was fairly peaceful and cheerful – Nicky had found a nice pair of jeans, and Bryan was rambling on about how he couldn’t decide which brand of mp3 player to buy. So it was a complete shock when, mid-ramble, Bryan suddenly came out with it.

“So me and Kerry are separating.”

Nicky stopped, his feet feeling glued to the ground with shock. Bryan bit his lip.

“Yeah. Thought you’d wanna know.” Bryan started walking again, and Nicky caught up, putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him. Bryan’s shoulder was tense, and the rest of him looked just as rigid.

“Why?”

“I dunno.” Bryan shrugged. “We just haven’t been getting on that well… it’s been really hard lately and I…” He sighed, losing his tension suddenly and slumping forward into a miserable slouch. “We’ve fought in front of the kids, and I mean screaming. It was getting stupid. And then I… I got drunk and there was this girl…”

Nicky’s tongue instantly went too dry to speak, and glued to the top of his mouth. He swallowed dryly.

“Girl?” He finally managed to force out, his heart sinking to his stomach.

“Yeah. Well.” Bryan shrugged. “It wasn’t even anything serious. Some tart I met… fuck, I was drunk! I was gonna keep it a secret, but then we were fighting the other night and she was really laying into me and I… I told her. Fuck, I don’t even know why I did it – I just wanted her to shut the hell up. But…” He shook his head. “It was coming anyway. We’ve been on rocky ground for a while.”

Nicky nodded silently, unable to look at Bryan. So that was it, was it? He’d never even seen it coming – never thought for a second that Bryan and Kerry could be anything less than totally in love. But then… he hadn’t actually seen Kerry lately, come to think of it. Jesus Christ, was that how quickly it could all fall apart? Even between a couple as indestructible as Bryan and Kerry? They had kids, for Christ’s sake! Nicky couldn’t imagine it, having kids in the middle of all that. He wanted kids. She wanted kids.

“Shit, I’m sorry Bry.” He said, in absence of any other words. Bryan shrugged.

“Well, nothing anyone can do now, I suppose.” He kicked idly at a pebble on the path and Nicky watched it go skittering down into the gutter. “She’s gone to stay with her mum. She’s taken the kids. God, Nix, she’s gonna take the kids from me and…” Bryan scrubbed his face with one hand, his breath hitching. “I don’t want to lose them too…”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Nicky attempted, his own voice feeling so useless and empty and he regretted saying anything at all. Bryan shook his head.

“It won’t. She’s their mum, and I’m the lying bastard who cheated on her… I didn’t want it to end like this. I don’t want to hate each other.”

“I know.” Nicky said, again regretting even speaking when he realised how futile he was being. But how was he supposed to be able to help Bryan, when it had brought into sharp relief everything that he’d fucked up – everything he could lose in a single second. Mark wasn’t going to just go away, and Nicky didn’t want him to. He… god… he fucking loved Mark. But he loved Georgina. His heart belonged to her. He couldn’t lose her… not over something as petty and trivial as what Bryan had done.

But she’d been just a bloody tart, hadn’t she? Mark was… not.

Something sharp and acid twisted in his stomach and tugged at the back of his throat. He felt the distinct urge to vomit. But rather than keel over at the roadside he did what he was expected to do. Nodded and patted Bryan’s shoulder at all the right moments while Bryan poured out his aching heart. Didn’t tell Bryan what he was feeling himself, because that was way too much of a risk. No, it was concrete now – definite. Nobody could know. Nobody could ever, ever know.

 

*

 

“That was okay, wasn’t it?” Mark asked hesitantly as they walked across the lawn to the buses. Kian shrugged, his head lowered over the books he was gripping tightly against his chest.

“I dunno. I answered all the questions. And at least it was multiple choice.” Mark nodded reassuringly.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. And look at it this way: we’re free now! No more class until next semester!” He nudged Kian, who scowled to hide an obvious laugh. “Christmas!”

Kian nudged him back.

“It’s not over until the results come through. You know that.”

“Since when have you been so serious about results?” Mark laughed, feeling bad for laughing but just so glad to be free of at least one of the things that had been weighing him down. He knew he was going to pass anyway – it had been a fairly easy exam.

“Since…” Kian shrugged. “Fuck you.”

“Mm.” Mark rolled his eyes, looking away. He was too bloody exhausted to deal with this kind of shit.

”Are we going to Nicky’s barbeque?”

And that was why.

“How the hell did you know about that?” Mark asked, surprised. Kian had a great many talents, but he hadn’t been aware mind-reading was one of them. Kian shrugged.

“Georgina lost your number. Her sister still had Shane’s. I had Shane’s phone. She rang me the other day, checking up on whether we were RSVPing or not.” He paused, looking at Mark. “I said I didn’t know.”

Mark nodded slowly, trying to hold back the angry scream that threatened to come bursting out.

“So are we going?”

“I don’t fucking know.” Mark said evenly, his hands busying themselves with looking through his bag for his bus ticket. “Do whatever you want.”

Kian stared at him for a second. Mark shifted under the heavy, penetrating gaze. Then Kian rolled his eyes and looked away, not speaking to him.

“I’m in love with Nicky.” Mark whispered, once the silence had drawn out so long he felt stretched himself, like a length of frayed rubber. He’d had to say it, or go completely mad. Kian looked at him.

“Well I know that. I’d have to be an idiot not to know that.”

“Mm.” Mark muttered. “Yeah.”

“Not that I blame you.” Kian continued once they’d found their seats on the bus. “I mean, he does have a fantastically amazing arse. Fucking hell, man, I’d pay for that privilege.”

“I said love; not that I want to fuck him!” He blushed and lowered his voice, very aware that more than one face had turned towards his outburst.

“So you don’t want to fuck him?” Kian said quietly.

“I dunno. Ki, I just… somewhere it went from fancying him to being completely… god, head-over-heels. I just want him. I don’t care if I fuck him. I just want him.” He swallowed, feeling the truth of those words burn at him. He just wanted Nicky.

And Nicky wanted Georgina. That was the reason he hadn’t told the truth weeks ago, when he’d had the opportunity. Because Nicky was – above all else – his friend. Because that was what Nicky wanted him to be, and he knew he would do anything Nicky wanted. Which was a little frightening.

He wanted that. It hurt how much he wanted it.

“I think he’s in love with you, too.” Kian said hesitantly, his hand alighting on Mark’s arm for a fleeting moment. “The way he looks at you sometimes…”

“…is nothing.” Mark finished. “And that’s how it has to be.” A sob built in his throat. He swallowed it down. It was very pathetic to start crying on a public bloody bus, of all places.

Kian nodded slowly. “Okay.” His friend said. “Okay. I won’t mention it.” He squeezed Mark’s wrist, and to his surprise, Mark actually drew a little comfort from the touch. Or maybe it was the fact that he could have a short respite from thinking about Nicky in any way, shape, or form. Just for a little while.

“So…” Kian continued. “Shall I RSVP then, or what?”

 

*

 

“Nicky?”

“Mark?” Nicky asked hesitantly, disarmed as usual by the soft, gravely voice floating down the phoneline.

“Hi.” Mark said, sounding as hesitant and frightened as Nicky did. Rather than feel comforted, Nicky was even more unsettled. If Mark didn’t even know what to do, how could he be expected to? Mark was always the one that talked sense, that told beautiful, rational lies and made Nicky feel as though nothing could possibly go wrong.

“Hi.” Nicky echoed. “Um… how are you?”

“Fine.” Mark was silent for a second, the hush buzzing between them. “Um.” Mark said finally. “I wanted to RSVP?”

The barbecue. Mark was coming. Thank god! Now he didn’t have to explain to Georgina why his ‘new best friend’ was suddenly out of the picture. And he and Mark could hang out. Like friends. Start rebuilding their… relationship-thing. He could see Mark. Mark always made him laugh.

He wasn’t thinking at all about what Mark might wear. Of course not. They were friends now.

“Okay.” He said simply, realising he’d been silent for an awfully long time. “It’ll be nice to see you.”

“Yeah.” Mark said awkwardly. “Uh… Kian wants to come. Is that okay?”

“Sure. Shane too, if you want.” Nicky agreed, his face already burning red at the memory of the last time he’d seen Shane and Kian. Shane’s shocked gasp, Kian’s laughing. Nicky’s cock deep in Mark’s throat, sucked so hard by those beautiful, full lips that felt so good on his sk…

Which reminded him.

“They won’t say anything, will they?” He asked.

“No. Course not.” Mark said, a little too shrilly to be believable. Though Nicky supposed Mark was just feeling highly-strung. That was okay. He could understand that. “They’ll be on their best behaviour.”

“Good.” Nicky laughed, and Mark chuckled too. Nicky could picture him, eyes crinkling in the corners, that little chip in his front tooth visible. Nicky’s tongue itched, in exactly the same place he had run against that tooth countless times. “I want us to be friends.” He said.

“I… I want that too.” Mark stammered. He swallowed audibly. “I miss you.” He whispered.

Nicky felt the sudden, uncontrollable urge to sob. Almost uncontrollable – he managed to control it after all. His throat burned.

“Mark…”

“I know. I’m sorry. I know. I shouldn’t have said…” Mark sighed. “Look, um… do you want me to bring anything then? Like, drinks or something for the barbecue or…”

“Um yeah. Just whatever you want to drink. We’re just running it that people bring their own things. It’s a bit easier that way. On my wallet, as well.”

Mark chuckled, and Nicky could almost see the roll of the eyes Mark would undoubtedly treat him to. He smiled.

“Okay.” Mark agreed. “I can do that. I’ll let the lads know.”

“Yeah.”

“Mmm.” Mark said. Nicky didn’t mind – it stopped the inevitable awkward silence from descending quite so quickly.

“Well.” Nicky prompted, not really wanting Mark to hang up.

“Well… yeah. I should go then.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Well. Yeah.” Nicky heard Mark breathe. “See you at five on Saturday, then.”

“Yeah. At five.” Nicky agreed.

“Mm. Okay…”

“Yeah.”

“Bye.” Mark said. The word hurt a lot more than it should. “See ya soon.”

“Bye.” Nicky replied. There was a click, and the dial tone kicked in.

“I miss you too.” Nicky whispered, still able to feel Mark’s breath in his ear.

 

*

 

Mark wished he was using a landline instead of his mobile, just so he could get the chance to slam the phone down in frustration.

Why had he said that? Why the fuck had he said that?

Shit.


	14. Deserved This

Saturday dawned cold and clear. Mercifully there were no clouds in the sky, but the icy wind bit at Nicky’s skin as he picked his way over the frosty lawn in his slippers. The newspaper was already wet, and he tossed it straight into the bin, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and yawning as he sat down at the breakfast table.

Georgina woke not long after, sleepy and dishevelled but beautiful. It had been a long night last night, filled with frantic lovemaking. Nicky had felt desperate as he’d pressed her against the wall and prised her willing mouth open with his tongue, wanting her, wanting to absolve his own guilt. He loved her, oh yes, loved the way she arched under him, so feminine and wonderful. Loved the way she kissed, pulled him close, teased his neck with her fingers and tongue, stroked his whole body, loved him.

They spent the morning tidying, passing friendly insults back and forth and making time for a brief grope against the kitchen table, and again in the middle of the bathroom. She laughed, cooed against his ear, and he held her tight, loving her, wanting to feel more for her. It wasn’t enough, what he felt for her. His lover, his best friend, but…

He cradled her hips in his hands while she climbed the ladder to change a lightbulb that had decided to blow the night before, and teasingly looked up her skirt, making her giggle and slap him gently when she came down.

“I love you, G.” He said, watching her unfold a few lawn chairs while he set up the plastic table. She looked up, brushing her hair away from her face with a careless hand.

“I love you too, babe.” She smiled. “Would you go get the table-cloths?”

Five o’clock came closer and closer, and Nicky realised he was looking upon it with some excitement. It would be great fun, having all their friends over and catching up with everyone. He’d been throwing himself into work so much lately that he’d had barely enough time for anyone, and the time he’d not been at work had been taken up by Mark, stressing about Mark, or thinking about Mark.

But that was all in the past. His life was getting back on track now, and today would be the thing that proved it. Proved that he and Georgina were together, and that he was just good old normal Nicky, who had barbecues and hung out with his friends. Proved that Mark was just his mate, his mate who happened to be gay. Everybody would know that when they saw Nicky with Georgina, saw how much he loved her, saw how well they worked together.

Everyone would know that Georgina was his whole world… his future.

 

*

 

Mark slept in on that chilly, icy Saturday morning. He woke to a thick fog around his brain, the result of not enough sleep and too much drinking. There had been an almost constant party on since that last exam, and the weight of three hangovers bored into his head like a drill.

He was the first one to wake – Shane and Kian were still passed out in the bedroom – so he set about making himself a coffee, ignoring his shaking hands and the distinct feeling that his eyeballs had been blowtorched and sandpapered, and were now leaking out of their sockets. He sat on the couch with coffee and stayed there, thinking maybe a few hours of blankness was a good idea.

It was almost one in the afternoon when he finally opened his eyes and didn’t see fog and redness. He was onto his fourth cup of coffee. Shane had staggered in a few minutes before and collapsed on the couch next to him, falling into a shallow, restless doze. Kian had woken up in good spirits, ready for the next round of drinking, making Mark want to shout at him and possibly impale him on something sharp, but he didn’t have the energy.

“Nicky’s barbecue’s this afternoon.” Shane commented just after their decrepit kitchen clock had staggered to 3pm, his voice thin and wavering. “We should go to that.”

“What are you wearing?” Kian enquired brightly. “It looks cold outside.”

Mark grunted. He didn’t particularly want to go. He felt awful and not in the mood for seeing Nicky all over his wife. Which Nicky would be, because he loved Georgina. And Mark was his friend. Yeah.

“Mark? What are you wearing?”

“As if it matters.” Mark shrugged, pulling himself to his feet and looking blearily around the living room, wanting to fall asleep again and wake up when this nightmare was over. Six or seven years should do it.

“Well I’m off to get ready.” Kian said, standing up and heading for the bedroom.

Shane fell sideways, his head making a hollow but unheeded thunk as it hit the armrest of the couch. Mark went to the bathroom and threw up.

 

*

 

It was well after five-thirty by the time Mark arrived, Shane and Kian in tow. Nicky had been idly watching the door since the first guests had arrived, his stomach knotting every time someone knocked. Not for any particular reason, he just wanted to see his friend again, spend some time with Mark and with his wife. Maybe Georgina and Mark could be friends – they didn’t know each other all that well and Nicky thought they might be able to hit it off. They were quite similar in some aspects, in their sense of humour. Maybe that was why Nicky felt so comfortable around both of them.

It was Georgina that actually answered the door, revealing a rather exhausted-looking Mark who staggered through the door, smiling weakly at Nicky’s wife. Georgina said something, and Mark winced, smiling, and said something back. She laughed, patting his arm.

Nicky, halfway across the lawn and only just able to see them through the door, smiled, watching the person he loved lead Shane and Kian across the lawn. He excused himself from the conversation he was having with one of Georgina’s work friends and made his way over, grinning as Mark’s bloodshot eyes turned on him and feeling his heart leap.

“Big night?” Nicky asked.

“Big three nights.” Mark’s voice was sheepish but he smiled anyway, a pleased-with-himself little smirk. “Exams are over.”

Nicky felt Georgina’s hand tighten on his shoulder, and he turned to smile at her.

“Where’s your loo?” Shane asked, his skin ashen and almost green.

“Hallway, third door on the right.” Nicky gestured, and Shane looked around blearily, his eyes confused. Sensing that Shane had no real concept of where ‘right’ was at the moment, Nicky laughed, taking his arm and leading him towards the house. He heard Georgina laugh behind him, and Mark snickered.

 

*

 

“Sorry about him, doesn’t hold his drink well.” Mark explained, feeling a little mortified for bringing his hungover mate to Nicky’s party. But Georgina smiled gently at him.

“Don’t worry, I remember the week after exams very well.” She laughed, and he grinned, glad that she hadn’t seemed to remember that he’d used exams as a potential excuse not to come. Or at least had been tactful enough not to say anything – he’d seen her eyes narrow when he’d mentioned it. He really had to learn to keep his lies straight.

“Nicky said you’re a gym instructor or something?” He asked, trying to make conversation, not wanting to feel the mixed hatred and pity for this woman. Maybe if they became friendly he wouldn’t feel so hostile.

“Personal trainer.” She corrected him, and he nodded.

“Never met one of them, myself. Too much of a beer and chips man.” He patted his stomach self-deprecatingly. “Guess that’s how Nicky manages to keep so fit?”

“If he’d ever exercise.” She winked. “He likes his football, so at least that helps. If he wasn’t so gorgeous I’d have him doing sit-ups. Or maybe it’s just the fact that he’s an incredibly good whinger.” She rolled her eyes, and he laughed. At least he could agree with her on the ‘gorgeous’ thing.

“When did you finish… erm… personal trainer’s school?” He asked, feeling stupid and awkward. But she laughed, shaking her head, and there was no malice or condescension in it.

“Only last year, actually. I tried a lot of things before I decided that was what I really wanted to do, so I’m running a bit late. Nicky supported us for a long time. He was wonderful.” He felt a pang at the wistful smile on her face. “But that’s Nicky all over. He’s so generous and understanding.”

“He is, yeah.” Mark agreed, not able to meet her eyes.

 

*

 

Nicky left Shane bent over the loo, deciding that Kian was better entrusted to the brunette’s care than he was, and when he came back out on the lawn Mark and Gina were chatting idly, friendly smiles on both their faces. Mark was wearing a dark blue hoody and smart jeans, his black and white chequered ‘chef shoes’ (as Nicky liked to call them) poking out from the denim hems.

“Wearing your chef shoes?” Nicky commented. Mark pulled a face.

“I like them.”

“They’re cool.” Georgina agreed, appraising Mark’s feet. “Mark was just telling me he’s almost finished his teaching degree. Isn’t that great?”

“Yeah.” Nicky agreed. Mark smiled at him, his cheeks slightly pink but his eyes a little clearer. “I’ll buy you a drink when you’re done, kiddo.”

“I’m only two years younger than you, geriatric.” Mark shot back, making Nicky wrinkle his nose condescendingly. It was one of their jokes, teasing each other about their ages, and Nicky liked it. It was comfortable and friendly.

The conversation went on. They drifted apart, Mark going over to talk to Shane and Bryan, while Georgina chatted to Cecilia and her latest boyfriend. Eventually Nicky found himself face to face with Kian.

“Hey Kian.” Nicky said. Kian gave him a sharklike smile.

“You broke his heart.” Kian said softly, his voice audible to no-one but Nicky. Nicky looked at him, his stomach knotting. Kian’s eyes were dark and serious and he stared intensely at Nicky, his usually careless appearance turning to something much more threatening.

“I’m sorry?”

“You did a bastardy, horrible thing to him.” Kian went on. “And I don’t particularly like you. I tried, you know. I thought ‘hey, this is just a guy who’s confused and stuff and he’s obviously in love with my mate’. I let it go, and I made fun of it, but the fact of the matter is that I don’t like you. I came because Mark needs this. He needs to see that there’s nothing between you so that he can move on.” He raised an eyebrow. “You’re with your wife and there’s nothing between you and Mark. Is that right?”

“Yes, of course!” Nicky spluttered, unable to believe that Kian’s personality had changed so drastically. Not that he knew Kian all that well, but…

“You better be sure of that.” Kian nodded. “Because if I find out something’s happening again. If you… slip, and don’t intend to follow through on it, I will rip your balls off and shove them down your throat. I love him, and I won’t see him hurt.”

“Fuck you.” Nicky growled, anger flaring hot and dark inside him. “It’s none of your fucking business!”

“No, it’s none of your business. You lost that right when you fucked him over.” Kian glared. “I never want to see that look in his eyes again, and you have no business putting it there. So if you’d stop eye-fucking him, I’ll consider not stapling your dick to your arse.”

“I’m not…”

“You are.” Kian interrupted. “I know what it looks like when someone wants someone, and that’s the look you’re giving him. It’s the look he’s permanently giving you.” With that, he turned on his heel and stalked into the house, leaving Nicky looking after him in shock and anger.

How dare Kian suggest that he would hurt Mark on purpose? How dare Kian confront him like that, in his own house!

Jesus, if Kian loved Mark so much, why weren’t they fucking? Then maybe Mark would be away from him, stop swanning around looking like the fucking sexiest thing ever and taking him away from his beautiful, sweet Georgina. Fucking Mark leading him on like this. It wasn’t fucking fair!

He realised his hands were shaking, and stuffed them in his pockets, gritting his teeth and growling under his breath.

He wasn’t fucking looking at Mark, either! He did not want him!

 

*

 

“Nicky?” Mark said, putting a hand on Nicky’s shoulder and feeling his tense muscles jump. Nicky spun around, and Mark started as he saw tears on Nicky’s flushed, angry face. “Are you alright?” He asked.

“Fuck you.” Nicky whispered, spinning back and stalking away. Mark looked after him in shock, his feet concreted to the floor. He felt ill all of a sudden, the tightness in his stomach that had appeared when he’d spotted an apparently angry Kian stood in front of Nicky intensifying.

He unstuck his rooted feet and followed Nicky into the house, wanting desperately to know what Kian had said, what he’d done to make Nicky look at him with such malice.

He found Nicky in the laundry, bent over the dryer, his face buried in his hands. Mark went in, his insides roaring with an icy wind to match the one outside, and closed the door behind him, sure that Nicky wouldn’t want anyone walking in on him looking so distressed.

Nicky looked up.

“What?”

“Are you okay?” Mark asked again.

“No.” Nicky replied shortly, running his fingers over his red face and raking them through his hair. “No, I’m fucking not. Your bastard of a friend just fucking… scolded me in my own fucking house and I want to punch him in the face.” He looked up. “I want to punch you in the face.”

“Oh.” Was all Mark could come up with. “What did he say?”

“That I…” Nicky paused, his eyes dark. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“He can be a bit abrasive sometimes.” Mark attempted to explain, even though he had no idea what Kian had actually said to Nicky to make him so angry. “He’s a good friend, though.”

“That’s the problem.” Nicky mumbled. He looked up at Mark. “Can we be friends? After everything?”

Mark hesitated for a second, not sure how to answer.

“I’d like to be.” Was all he could come up with. Nicky stared at him.

“Me too.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“The problem is…” Nicky’s hands were shaking as he gripped the top of the dryer, his knuckles turning white. As if he was trying to hold himself back from something, mentally as well as physically.

Then he surged forward.

 

*

 

Nicky wasn’t sure what had happened. He was angry, he knew that, emotions swirling through his veins and bloodstream, making him feel like he was blazing from the inside out. So many emotions. Rage, fear, love, lust, hurt, longing…

His legs pushed forward almost of their own accord, and when his arms threw themselves around Mark’s neck and they hit the door with a hard thunk, Nicky knew his lips were soon to follow.

Their mouths crashed together, hard and desperate. Mark made a surprised noise, his gaping mouth accepting Nicky’s tongue, though whether it was through want or helplessness was unclear. Weren’t they the same thing in the end? Want? Helplessness? Nicky certainly know he felt both. Love. Oh god, no.

“I love you.” He found himself saying, and Mark was saying it back so deliriously and breathlessly as their hands roamed everywhere and Nicky’s mouth made its way back to Mark’s taking it his mouth plunging inside their hips crushing together fingers oh god yes please need…

“Nicky.” Mark gasped as Nicky spun him round, shoving him against the washing machine and feeling him yelp in something like pain when his back hit the metallic edge.

“Shut up.” Nicky growled back, working at buttons. “I love you, so just shut up.”

“No… we… we…” Mark protested, his arms curling up as Nicky tried to yank his shirt down them. “We can’t, you… your wife.”

Nicky cried out softly, wanting to scream but knowing it would be heard by everyone. By Georgina. He didn’t care suddenly. No, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He loved Georgina, he…

“I’m in love with you.” He said, his throat thick and tight as he said it. A tear spilled from his eye. “I… I want you and…”

“You’re married.” Mark whispered.

“I… I know.” Nicky pressed his cheek against Mark’s bare chest, feeling his heart pulse quickly beneath the surface. So close. “I don’t… I don’t want to be. I just want… you.”

“Nicky…” Mark smiled grudgingly, but his eyes were thick with tears. “We can’t do this.”

“We can.” Nicky replied. “We have to because… because I can’t… I can’t live without you. I want you, I don’t care…”

 

*

 

Mark shook his head, joy and horror fighting for dominance within him. He didn’t know what to say. To accept what Nicky was offering… to destroy Georgina… it was a horrible, frightening though. But Nicky… he loved Nicky and Nicky loved him and… and he didn’t know what to do.

Nicky kissed him again. He felt himself give up.

“You’re confused.” He whispered.

“I’m not. For the first time in my life I’m not.” Nicky responded, his eyes blazing with honesty.

“I…” Mark swallowed, then whispered so softly he could barely hear it himself. “Okay.” He murmured. “Okay.” He looked up, into a face twisted by fright. “Are you serious?”

Nicky nodded slowly. “Yes. I… I can’t keep doing this. I love you.”

Mark didn’t think he’d ever tire of hearing Nicky say that.

“I love you too.” He replied.

“I’ll leave her. Tonight, I’ll tell her everything and… and we can be together.” Nicky croaked. “You and me.”

“I don’t have any money.” Mark said, trying to figure out some kind of stumbling block he could put between he and Nicky, trying to test him, maybe. Something to convince himself of how insane this all was. God, ten minutes ago he’d just been Nicky’s miserable friend. This was happening so fast…

“I can support us til then. She won’t get everything through the divorce.”

Mark felt a violent urge to laugh. This was absurd.

“Okay.” He agreed anyway, wanting nothing more than Nicky. Nicky nodded.

 

*

 

“Okay.” Nicky agreed, the rolling waves of anxiety in his stomach making him feel ill. Despite them, he lifted himself on his toes, hooking an arm around Mark’s neck and tugging him down, pulling their lips together, feeling the rightness of this. It was perfect. It was so right.

He barely heard the door click open, the horrified gasp. He felt Mark freeze in his arms.

“Oh god.” Georgina whispered.

 

*

 

Mark froze, seeing horrified, wide eyes, the hand that lifted to cover Georgina’s mouth in a kind of sick formality.

“Oh god.” She whispered. Nicky turned to look at her.

“Georgina…” He murmured.

“Oh god.” She said again, backing away, the momentum of her body as though she was on stilts. She staggered back, a tear spilling down her face. “No.”

“I… I…” Mark attempted. What was he supposed to say? ‘It meant nothing’? It didn’t.

“Georgina, we…” Nicky croaked. “I’m… I’m sorry…”

 

*

 

Nicky would remember the next few seconds for as long as he lived. The way Georgina staggered back, her slim, lithe body sagging under her tears. The accusing glare.

“You… bastard.” She moaned, her hand clutching her chest.

“Gina…”

“Don’t… don’t…” She turned and Nicky went after her, not quite reaching her before she grabbed her car keys and ran into the garage, climbing into the car and starting it. He hammered on the door, but she simply gave him an empty, ghostlike look. Maybe it was something of an omen, that look.

She gunned the engine and the car shot backwards like an arrow, through the rolled-up door and down the driveway, into the street. There was a screech and a squeal, a horrible metal sound and the scream of rending metal, the crunch of wheels. The driver’s side crumpled in the unstoppable force of the SUV that had met her car side-on. Not enough time to stop, the driver said afterwards. She just appeared out of nowhere.

He remembered screaming. His own and others, the sickly bright lights of the ambulance washing over the twilit lawn and shiny wet tarmac. There were machines and oxygen and a stretcher, and people shouting. Someone pushed him into the ambulance after her, and all he could focus on were the ragged, crackling breaths pushing through her mask. And the blood. All the blood.

The doors slammed shut, and he felt the engine of the ambulance rumble underneath him.

The sky opened up, and rain fell in a sudden emotionless torrent.

 

*

 

The corridor seemed strangely dark, despite the bright lights and white walls. Mark’s shoes made hollow tapping sounds as he walked. There was a broken, crumpled figure at the end of the hall, collapsed in an uncomfortable plastic chair. He looked very alone.

Mark crouched next to him after a seemingly eternal walk down the hall, the sound of his own footsteps still echoing in his head. He handed Nicky the warm Styrofoam cup clenched in his fist.

Nicky didn’t sip the coffee, just stared at it for a second before putting it down on the floor next to him.

“Hey.” Mark said.

“Leave me alone.” Nicky whispered. He turned to look at Mark, his eyes deep, black pools. “She was pregnant.”

“Oh god.” Mark found himself saying, though he didn’t know how he could speak through the twisted mess of his throat. Nicky sobbed, putting his face in his hands.

“I can’t… she was…” He swallowed, and when he started breathing again it was coming in desperate, ragged gasps. “You need to leave.”

“I… of course.” Mark agreed, willing to accept just about anything right now, but perversely stung that Nicky didn’t want Mark to stay with him. They were together now, weren’t they? Wasn’t that what couples did?

“I don’t ever want to see you again.” Nicky said. “Not ever.”

Mark could’ve sworn someone had punched him in the stomach. It hurt as though he had, and the air left his lungs in a deep, gasping wheeze. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t… oh god.

Nicky was looking at him.

“I’m sorry.”

Swallowing down his own vomit, Mark nodded, standing up on shaky legs. He didn’t know how they carried him back down the hall, but they did, and he lurched into the bushes outside, expelling the contents of his stomach and trying not to collapse. Tears soaked his face.

 

*

 

Inside, Nicky watched the door in front of him, waiting for word on Georgina.

He deserved this, and if by some miracle she made it, he’d make sure it was worth it.

 

*

 

Mark crashed back into the apartment, disturbing Shane and Kian, who were laid on the couch, kissing furiously, hands all over each other. They looked up, and as Mark collapsed to a heap on the floor, he felt two sets of arms encircle him, holding him tight.


	15. Epilogue

Nicky wasn’t looking where he was going, which he supposed was what had caused it, though it couldn’t have been all his fault. Afterwards, he considered fate as an option. He didn’t know if he believed in fate, maybe it was sheer dumb luck. Maybe it didn’t matter.

There was a sound like ‘ooph’ as bodies collided, and Nicky swore reflexively as papers fell out of his arms to the ground.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry.” A voice said, and Nicky bent to pick up his spilled armful of documents, seeing only the hands in front of him that grappled at the papers and piled them back into a messy stack.

“It’s okay.” Nicky replied, shivering though not sure why. Something familiar ran up his spine, a prickly, icy feeling. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“I’m sorry, anyway.” The voice said, and Nicky looked up to reassure again, freezing when he came face-to-face with someone he hadn’t ever imagined he’d see again. Hands froze on the stack Mark was holding as blue eyes widened.

“Nicky?” Mark said, his voice croaky and shocked. Nicky’s breath swept away, captured by that familiar face. Of course Mark was six years older than Nicky remember him, pushing the thirty that Nicky had celebrated last year. He had a few more wrinkles and his hair was shorter, his voice hinting the rasp of cigarettes. Nicky swallowed.

“Mark?”

“Hi!” Mark exclaimed, then smiled sheepishly, handing the papers back. “Erm… fancy running into you!” He laughed, that throaty chuckle that had haunted Nicky’s dreams for long years. “Literally I guess. How are you?”

“Fine. I’m...” Nicky looked down at the papers in his arms. “Divorcing.”

“Oh no…” Mark said, looking genuinely sorry. “I’m really sorry.”

“Well, you know.” Nicky shrugged. “Just got out of court. Things were… well, they finalised today.”

“Wow.” Mark said, and Nicky could see him struggling with the idea, his eyes filled with confusion. Maybe Mark couldn’t believe they’d lasted this long… Nicky certainly couldn’t. They’d never really gotten past it, and the resentment had built up and up, especially once Georgina found out she had been pregnant, her limp a constant reminder of what had happened that day. She’d had to give up her career. He’d not had another affair, but he’d have been lying if he’d said he hadn’t thought about it. He was gay, he’d had to finally admit that to himself and to her, and after that there was nothing they could do but leave it.

“Yeah. Well.” Nicky shrugged. “How are you?”

“Fine. Good, yeah.” Mark nodded. “I’ve just started at a new school in Dublin. Only been there a couple of months, but it’s looking pretty good so far.”

“Wow.” Nicky said. “That’s fantastic! So you made it then?”

“I did indeed.” Mark laughed, and Nicky remembered why he had been attracted to Mark so long ago. Even six years older and with a little more weight on, the man was still gorgeous, and so sweet. Nicky smiled, remembering Mark the first time around, wondering how much he’d changed. Wanting to find out.

“Are you busy?” Nicky asked, his stomach fluttering. He’d not asked anyone out in a very long time, and this felt so awkward. “We could go for coffee or something and catch up?”

“Oh, I… I can’t.” Mark replied. “I’m going furniture shopping with…” His eyes softened. “I’m with someone, Nicky. I’m sorry.”

Nicky nodded, a stone sinking to his stomach and settling there. He could hardly be surprised though, could he? Mark was a good-looking guy with a lot to offer. Of course he’d have found someone.

Forcing back his disappointment, he smiled, clapping Mark on the shoulder.

“Who’s the lucky bloke, then? Not Kian?”

Mark laughed. “God no, I think Shane might have something to say about that.” And at Nicky’s raised eyebrow he added. “They’ve been together for a while now.”

“Don’t tell me those two have settled down?” Nicky’s eyes widened in surprise.

“I wouldn’t say that. It’s permanent World War Three, but it seems to work for them, so.” Mark shrugged. “No, uh… his name’s Kevin. I met him at a photography course I did. We’ve just bought an apartment together, hence the furniture shopping.” He bit his lip over a smile, and Nicky had to smile back at the look of quiet love in Mark’s eyes. “Speaking of, I’m supposed to be meeting him…”

“Oh of course, yeah.” Nicky agreed, nodding and stepping aside. “Well, it was nice seeing you again.”

“Yeah, absolutely. Look…” Mark reached into his pocket and pulled out a chewed pencil. After a quick rummage, he also produced a receipt from the other pocket. “I’ll give you our number. Ring me up and we’ll have lunch or something, yeah?”

“Sure.” Nicky watched him scribble on the paper, and accepted the number Mark handed him, tucking it into his pocket. “It’ll be good to catch up.”

“Yeah.” Mark gave him a wide grin. “I gotta go, but definitely ring me. Don’t lose my number.”

“I won’t.” Nicky patted his pocket, checking the folded paper was still tucked safely away. They hugged awkwardly, then Mark strode down the road in a hurry, waving over his shoulder. Nicky waved back, then turned and made his own way down the street, wondering what the future held.

 

*

 

Mark paused in front of the store, looking at his watch. But just as he was about to curse a special someone for his chronic lateness, he felt an arm curl around his waist, and turned to smile at his partner.

“You made it!”

“Shut up.” Kevin scowled playfully. “Who’s that bloke you were talking to?”

“Spying, were you?”

“Nah.” A peck landed on his lips. “Just noticing. Love you.”

“Love you too.” Mark replied, and pulled out of the embrace, linking their hands together to keep the contact.

“So who was that?”

Mark smiled. “Someone out of my past.” He glanced over his shoulder, but the blonde had disappeared into the crowd. “An old friend.”

“Okay.” Kevin grinned, and they paused in front of a bed. He pointed. “I like that one.”

Mark laughed. “Is this your way of saying you hate furniture shopping and want to go home and shag?”

“No, not at all.”

“Uh huh.” Mark chuckled, looking at the bed and feeling contentedness wash over him, eclipsing the sad little pang in his heart, wondering what might have been.

But that was all in the past.

This was his future.


End file.
